In Desperate Need of Adventure
by Kimberlea
Summary: Veyra is one of Bilbo's Tookish cousins. After the passing of her Hobbit mother and not knowing her father's identity, the lure of adventure had been calling to her and now is her chance as a rowdy troop of Dwarves descend upon Bag End. Kili/OC/Legolas Triangle!
1. In Desperate Need of Adventure

**So... This has basically been written because I should be revising for exams, but do not want to. Enjoy!**

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><p>It was a Tuesday morning. I always loved Tuesdays. Especially the first Tuesday of each month; that was when I was allowed to cross to the Hill and visit my cousin Bilbo. I did not get to see him much, which was a shame. Bilbo waited for me at his gate, pipe in hand, his green eyes shining to match the round door of his Hobbit Hole, his smile lit up his happy little face as he rushed to open the gate for me. Bag End really was a delightful home to visit; it was comfortable and relaxed, the exact opposite of any Took household. There you would find little Hobbit children running and screaming everywhere.<p>

He greeted me at the door with a heart-warming smile plastered to his adorable face and leaned upward to give me a firm hug. I should probably mention now that I am not entirely a Hobbit. My mother, Donnamira had been a Hobbit, but my father (whom no one knew the identity of) was said to be some stranger of the race of Men whom she had met on one of her many adventures.

I returned his embrace, "My dear, Bilbo! I trust you are well,"

"Indeed, indeed, Veyra." The Hobbit replied. "I always am! Yet you look drawn and thin, have you not been eating or have you merely grown again?" He chuckled lightly.

He was right in part, I had grown a tad; I was almost a full head taller than he now. However, I had noticed that I seemed to be thinning, especially around the waist, a place where Hobbits are particularly round regardless of gender.

"I am quite well," I assured him gently, "I shall be a giant in no time at this rate though!" I joked. The Hobbit bursting into dignified laughter.

"Come in," He beckoned, "I'll put our supper on soon." He promised. Bilbo was an excellent cook and so I was positively ecstatic at the prospect of a meal cooked by him.

I did as bid and entered the round, green door; admiring the new paintwork that had not been here upon my last visit. He led me through the tubular hallway into his spotless kitchen, ordering me to sit down as he made tea. He told me of a rather odd run-in he had experienced this morning with a wizard (Bilbo had called him Gandalf, and I thought I recognised the name) who had spoken to Bilbo of an adventure, asking if the Hobbit had wanted to join him. Of course Bilbo had refused. Baggins' did not partake in adventures, unlike the Tooks with whom I had grown up, and the sinister way Bilbo told me that Gandalf had hinted this adventure suggested that barely a Took would want any part of it.

All in all it was a charming afternoon and come early evening I was even allowed to help with the preparations for our meal. We were to have a fish supper, complete with potatoes and mixed vegetables. The whole thing smelled delicious, with Bilbo adding unknown herbs to the dish.

Unexpectedly there was a knock at the door.

"Veyra, would you mind plating this up whilst I see to the door," Bilbo asked, polite as ever.

I nodded my head and shooed him away with a small chuckle. I dished up the food, refraining from sneaking a taste and brought the two plates to the table. In the dining room I sat myself down and waited for my cousin's return. Instead of Bilbo, however, I was faced with a short, white wire-haired gentleman whom looked at least as shocked as I to find the room unoccupied.

Bilbo flew back into the room. "Veyra, this is Balin; a Dwarf. Balin, this is Veyra; my cousin."

"Nice to meet you," I offered, bowing my head respectfully.

He returned my head-bowing with a sweeping bow that nearly had his nose sweeping the floor. "At your service," He remarked. I thanked him, even though I had no clue as to what service I would require him for.

I raised my befuddled gaze to Bilbo, "I did not know you were planning on having company, cousin, you should have said. I would not wish to trouble you further if you have guests."

The Hobbit blanched, "No, no, not at all. You are no trouble!" He blurted. "What I mean to say is: I had not planned for other visitors," He remembered Balin's presence, "Not that you are unwelcome."

The Dwarf shook his head, showing no offence had been taken, "Have you anything to eat?" He asked without a please, nor thank you – something that I was certain would be annoying to Bilbo, who prided himself upon his manners.

Ever the gallant host, though, Bilbo offered his own supper, looking somewhat forlorn as the Dwarf tucked in.

"You can share mine," I told him, to which he gratefully accepted, pulling up a seat beside me.

He had no sooner sat down than the door went once more. The Hobbit scurried away, muttering beneath his breath words that I could not quite work out. I saw the reason for his irritation as in walked another Dwarf, Dwalin, the brother of the first by the looks of it. They took no notice of me – not that I minded – they were too engrossed in their exchange of greetings that strangely involved head-butting one another. I would rather stick to a bow or handshake if it were up to me. Bilbo was fuming, I could tell by his little speech that none but I were bothering to listen to.

A pounding came once more from the door. "I'll get it," I said, patting my dear cousin on the arm as I left him to deal with his Dwarf problem.

I swung open the door, expecting even more old Dwarves, fully willing to turn them away. I had not my cousin's patience for uninvited guests. I was, however, shocked to find not only one, but two Dwarves, though these were of an entirely different sort. One stood tall and fair, his moustache braided at each side, which I happened to think suited him, although I did think it would look ridiculous if he had not looked so dashing. The other was taller, exceptionally tall for a Dwarf; he had smouldering chocolate eyes and a stunningly lazy smile, his hair hung about his shoulders and his stubble looked rough, yet soft.

"Fili," Announced the first.

"Kili," The second informed me.

"At your service," They chimed together, each smirking at me, gifting me a low bow in unison.

I regretted not wearing a dress, Hobbits were privileged and did not have to wear gowns at all times, but it would have been better to have been in something that made me look more feminine than black leggings, a long white shirt and a corset panel type belt, teamed with knee-high leather boots. I had not even bothered to comb my golden hair that littered my shoulders, spilling onto my back.

"Veyra, at yours," I told them, recovering my wits and resolving not to dwell on my inappropriate outfit.

"Are we late?" Fili enquired, obviously wondering why I kept them on the doorstep.

I blushed, "I'm sorry, late for what?"

"Has it been cancelled?" Kili asked, seeming disappointed, evidently he had been looking forward to whatever it was.

"The meeting," Fili expanded.

I had no idea what he was talking about. "I- er- nothing has been cancelled, but I-"

I got no further, Fili had pushed Kili inside. "That's a relief!" Kili beamed, throwing a wink my way. What just happened? This was not my house in which to admit people and yet here were these two Dwarves barging in as though I had invited them. They ambled through the hall. I followed, mouthing an apology to Bilbo as the newcomers bowed to him.

Fili turned to me, his arms laden with sheathed weapons. "Careful with these; I just had them sharpened."

I stared blankly at him, not taking them from his outstretched arms. "Does it look as though I could possibly be a maid?" I snapped incredulously, pushing past him into the already crowded dining area. I swear I could hear Kili snickering as I passed him, but I decided to ignore it. I had a feeling I would be ignoring a lot of things this evening.

Kili proceeded to scrape the dirt from his boots on one of Bilbo's old glory boxes, it had belonged to his mother at some point. I smirked, that ugly box was one of Bilbo's favourites, though he never used it for anything. I heard my cousin's complaints as I settled myself in a seat, making sure that I would not have to leave it again, the others could stand for all I cared. Moments later, even more Dwarves tumbled in, I could not keep up with all the names hurled at me, nor was I expected to. Few took any notice of me. The latest batch of Dwarves were accompanied by a ginormous man with a tangled steel beard to match his matted hair and silvery robes, he relied heavily of a crooked wooden staff that had certainly seen better days, I took him to be Gandalf the Grey.

The Dwarves squeezed and squashed themselves into tiny chairs around every inch of the table and I found myself wedged in between the two youngest looking Dwarves. Not that I minded that at all; they were pleasant company – laughing and joking, bringing me drinks without me having to ask – they were even trying to be polite for Bilbo's sake.

"So, Veyra." Fili began, "What are you to master Baggins?" He sneaked a look to his brother who wore a rather delicate and tense expression, as though he were worried about my answer and hoping a certain way or another. The appearance did not suit his roguish façade.

I smiled warmly, "I'm his cousin," I told them, to a glimmer of relief from Kili, "mother's side."

"So you're a Took!" Boomed Gandalf, who I was not aware would be listening to my prattling on.

I blushed and gave an assenting bow of the head, "That I am, sir, Veyra Took." I think I may have been too formal, I could tell Fili was withholding a snigger and Kili had to disguise (badly) his laughter with a coughing fit.

Gandalf paid them no mind, "How marvellous! You would no doubt be interested in our adventure, daughter of Donnamira!"

I shrugged warily, all eyes were on me now and I did not like the attention one bit; it was how I would imagine a snake in a zoo would feel roaming it's vivarium with hundreds of eyes watching it's every move. "It depends on the adventure," I dodged.

The one I remembered was named Gloin protested. "She cannot come with us, she barely looks of age! What is she? Twelve?" He rumbled. "Far too young?"

The look on my face must have been terribly indignant. "I assure you, Dwarf,-" I made my voice as cold as I were capable, "- I am old enough to make decisions of my own as to whether I would be capable of accompanying you on quests, thank you very much!" I argued, probably sounding every bit a child.

Again Kili's face grew concerned. "Pardon me, but how old are you then?" He questioned, his tone guarded. "If you don't mind my asking." At least _he_ had the manners to ask and not simply assume.

I shrugged. "Twenty," I answered. It was not big deal. In the race of Men you came of age at eighteen and seeing as I was the only half-Man-half-Hobbit I had come across or heard of I had no inclination as to when my exact species became adults, no idea how long I might live for.

"But even Hobbits do not come of age until they are thirty-three!" Bofur cried, "You cannot join us, child!"

I resisted the urge to argue, it would only have reinforced his point; instead, I glanced to Gandalf for back up, pretending I did not catch the disappointment on Kili's face. Not that I was curious as to why he would be disappointed. Okay, so I might have been. A lot.

Gandalf did indeed come to my aid, "Ah, my dear Bofur, that is most true," he paused, "but Veyra is more than a Hobbit, in her veins runs the blood of Men and so it is that this young woman is most definitely of age." The wizard wheezed a light laugh at the stunned silence of the group; evidently they had all expected me to be a pure Hobbit, even though I was far too tall for one of my age.

"Still, she cannot join us." Spoke a deep, regal voice, dripping with grandeur, sneaking in from the Kitchen doorway. Bilbo had quietly admitted him whilst everyone was speaking all at once.

I was getting tired of being told what I could and could not do by people who did not know me in the slightest. "And why ever not?" I challenged. You could feel the air push past as the Dwarves did a collective gasp of suspense.

The Dwarf stood high, his dark hair and beard streaked with grey and yet there was a youthful hunger inside his eyes, such that made it difficult to look at anything else.

He dismissed me with a wave of his hand. "You know nothing of the world. It would be the greatest surprise to me and all others if you even possessed a mere inkling of what an Orc is!"

"I know well enough the damage Orcs can do." I answered quietly, dangerously.

"What would bring a Shireling into such knowledge?" He sneered.

I stood tall, almost upsetting Fili in his seat beside me. "I have more reason to detest those creatures than most, though far less than some." I muttered vaguely before standing to leave. This brought back memories that I absolutely did not wish to revisit. I would have walked back to my home in Bywater, just outside Hobbiton, if Bilbo had not persuaded me to stay the night due to the late hour.

I decided I would leave the men to do as they wished, filling in Bilbo on what they had planned, I would not intrude upon their company nor their adventures if I was not wanted. The newcomer was wrong, very wrong, I knew very well what Orcs were and destruction they caused. My mother had been destroyed no more than a year ago by an Orc pack just outside of Bree. The people who found her remains only found pieces and her diary; that is the only way they were able to find out who the mangled remnants of a body once was. That is why I lived with the Old Took now; he would no longer allow to go on adventures, he feared I would meet the same end as my mother – not that I had ever been on a real adventure, the furthest I had ever ventured was The Marish and that was still contained within the Shire. I tried not to dwell on my suspicion that Bilbo would be asked to leave his beloved Shire against his will, whereas I would be left behind wanting nothing more than to explore the world beyond. Life, it seems, is greatly unfair.

Sighing I sank into one of my cousin's armchairs and enjoyed a tankard of ale, not very feminine, but I needed a drink right now. Things were not going at all my way. Was a quiet evening with my cousin so much to ask for? Now twelve Dwarves had ruined it! I allowed my eyes to close, this was definitely not my day. Not my day at all.

I sensed, rather than saw, another enter the room; judging by the weighted sound his boots made across the thick carpet I gathered that it would not be my cousin, but a Dwarf – probably not one of the more rotund ones, one of the younger. If I had been in a better mood, I would have done the polite thing and opened my eyes or acknowledge him in some way, but I had not the patience to do such a thing, to interact with one of those diminutive Dwarves.

The sofa next to me wheezed as a form lowered his weight upon it. Neither of us spoke a word to the other as my eyes remained shut. His breathing came to my ears; a slow and steady rhythm, unbroken by noises from the kitchen that floated in on clouds of pipe-smoke. The scent of which rolled off him to settle like a blanket about me.

Curiosity finally triumphed over my stubbornness. Slowly I drew back my eyelids to reveal unto myself just who it was that had joined me. It did not surprise me when my gaze fell upon none other than the youngest Dwarf.

"So you are willing to be sociable at last!" He sniggered, giving my arm a light tap in jest.

I frowned. "My apologies," I mumbled, "I am out of sorts this evening, do forgive me." It was not like me to ask forgiveness, but on this occasion I was far too tired and grumpy to bother with an argument.

The Dwarf smiled, albeit somewhat sadly. "You need not apologise to me; I have come to apologise to you on Thorin's behalf." So that was the regal Dwarf's name. I must have still worn a bewildered expression. "Master Baggins informed us of your mother." He said by way of explanation.

"It matters not," I waved a hand airily. "My only ask is that he restrains from treating me as a child, it is long since anyone has done that and I am too unused to it."

Kili seemed to understand, "I will ensure they treat you as you deserve," He drawled a sneer tugging up the corner of his lips. "You did not look a child to me," He admitted.

I blushed – well who would not? I had no inkling of how to respond to that. What he even meant by it, I would never know. "So how old are you then?" I enquired. It seemed a good idea to know how much younger than the youngest Dwarf I was.

"I'm seventy-seven." He replied after a while.

I was not expecting that; to see him you would think he were no more than thirty years old at the most, but to be in his seventies he looked incredible. Not that I should notice that. Either Dwarves live even longer than Hobbits do (120 years on average) or he had a miraculous wrinkle treatment.

"Wow," I breathed. "Not to be impertinent, but how do you possibly look do young? It's really not fair!" I joked. Though it was not fair at all, he barely looked but a few years older than me, I expect I will be a bag of creased skin by the time I reach his age.

The Dwarf laughed, "I suppose we Dwarves have a habit of living a fair bit longer than both Men and Hobbits." He paused. "Shame really." Once more a cloud of something akin to pain transformed his features, sharpening the colour of his eyes and drawing close his brows.

"How so?"

His cheeks glowed a faint pink but did not answer. At that moment Fili came peeping his head into the room. His moustache braids swinging jovially.

"Has it been agreed?" He questioned, striding to stand by his kin. Has what been agreed? I sent him a puzzled glance, then turned to a reddening Kili.

He cleared his throat, "I have yet to mention it, brother."

I threw an accusatory glare at Kili; it felt like he had been trying to lull me into a sense of trusting him. I wonder what he was sent to persuade me to do.

"It is nothing terrible, I promise," He raised his hands defensively, "Thorin, the leader of our Company, has requested that you join our quest. Gandalf thought it would do you some good and I imagine we, all of us, would be glad of your presence." He bumbled.

I considered this. I had not even the faintest idea what this journey would entail. "What are we, I mean you, setting out to do, may I ask?" It seemed to me only too sensible to know what I would be agreeing to before I answered.

Kili faltered, his brother taking over. Both donned identical expressions woven from seriousness and laced with foreboding. "We will make to reclaim the home of our fathers; Erebor. We seek to overthrow the Dragon Smaug so that Thorin can, as he should have, become King Under the Mountain. It will be dangerous, extremely so, but have no fear; you shall be rewarded with your equal share of the gold upon our taking it back."

A dragon. That is what we are to face. Even with the fourteen, fifteen if I agree, of them I highly doubted the mission's success and yet the whole thing called to some Tookish part of me that was in desperate need of adventure. I loved the Shire, but I had never gone beyond what I know, like my mother had. I needed to get away, to see more of the world than I had ever dreamed.

"You do not have to accompany us if you are afraid." Fili supplied.

"Though you must know that we would let no harm come to you if we can help it," Kili added, trying to assure me, but I knew that against a dragon I would have to be of use somehow; they cannot protect me and fight a dragon at the same time.

They wanted an answer and soon; I could tell by the way Kili's leg bounced with anticipation. Fili, too, appeared on edge – his right eye was twitching, giving him an extremely impatient air.

There was only one response I could give. "So, when do we set out?" I asked with a grin.

Kili's face broke out into the most glorious smile I had ever seen, the sun held nothing in comparison to the brightness of this single quirk of his mouth. "Really? You'll come?"

"Of course," I told him, honestly I could not have declined had I desired to; opportunities for adventure are few and far between.

Fili too grinned widely. "We leave at dawn," He informed me.

That was far sooner than I had expected. "Then, I had better return home and pack." I mused, happily daydreaming about the thrills of this adventure.

"There will be no need for that, young one," Gandalf chuckled heartily from the hall doorway. "I took the liberty of collecting a pack from Gerontius on my way here, I hope you do not mind." So he had been to see the Old Took. I remembered that Gandalf was a dear friend of the Old Took, having accompanied him on many a trek, even presenting the Hobbit with diamond studs that would only unclasp once ordered to do so.

"You knew I would come." I had meant it to be an interrogative, however, as it so happened, upon saying it aloud it transformed into a declarative statement. He had known, and if he had known that, as he had had knowledge of my blood, then how much more of my life or my future could this wizard possibly be aware of? I could not decide whether this made me cautious of him or trusting of him. In resolve, I thought it best to trust any friend of my family, for they were few.

The wizard nodded as though it had been obvious that I would join up without much encouragement – he clearly knew me better than he had previously portrayed, or maybe he knew my mother well and presumed I would be very much as she had been. I hoped he was right. It would be a great honour to fill her shadow.

"Will Bilbo come too?" It would be nice to have my cousin by my side, a little bit of home.

Gandalf studied me carefully, his mouth tugging upward at the corners. "He is quite… undecided at this present moment and not predisposed to give us an affirmative as yet." The wizard hedged.

"He fainted when we mentioned dragon fire." Fili supplied.

I supressed a grimace, I had no doubt that the thought would not sit too well in my cousin's mind – he had been brought up with Baggins'; they were not designed to think lightly of adventures, let alone dragons, they would not even cross the Brandywine River by boat always opting for the Bridge if they took the trouble to venture across at all. It is likely that he would decline. Pity, an expedition would do him a world of good; he had become rather rounded and complacent as of late. Not that such a thing were uncommon among Hobbits, but I had a fear that being surrounded by contented Hobbits had dulled his sense of fun. When he was younger he would take a very young version of myself on walks to find Elves in the nearby woods, telling me stories and how he would love to encounter the Fair Folk. Now the only stories he told were the gossip he had picked up from The Green Dragon with his ale addled friends.

"I hope he wakes in a better mind," I muttered to no one in particular.

"As do I, Veyra. He would learn more of himself than ever if he sees the sense to join us. I should warn you to note that neither of you shall return the same as you are now," I had already begun to think that, even hope it, "if you return at all." He finished darkly.

I shivered, I had expected that as well, and yet having it spoken aloud made the thought all the more real. "I understand," I whispered, "I would not hold you to any promise of return." It dawned upon me that I might never see the Shire again, but that did not make me as saddened as I previously thought it would. Do not mistake me, I prayed to the Valar for a safe homecoming, but I could happily live elsewhere.

The youngest Dwarf's face contorted. "If Gandalf cannot promise your safety, I will."

I made to thank him and tell him it would be unnecessary, he needed to look after himself first, but Gandalf cut me off. "There is no need for that, master Kili, Veyra is a keen bow handler and I'd wager her mother taught her the ways of the blade also."

"You knew her well?" I queried, for she had indeed taught me both sword and bow from an early age, though I had not used either since her passing.

The wizard elucidated: "Indeed, long have I been acquainted with the Tooks and she was a particularly fond adventurer especially in her youth." He smiled fondly in remembrance, "A fine woman and one of the bravest I have ever met. I bet you could give her a run for her money though." He joked, nudging my shoulder conspiratorially."

This cheered me, I only hoped I could live up to her reputation. I nodded in thanks. "I had better make sure I live up to such expectations then," I giggled.

The other Dwarves joined us, gently laying an unconscious Bilbo into the armchair across from me, the rest of them slotting themselves into small spaces on the sofa or simply plopping down onto the floor. The youngest brothers ended up perching on either arm of my seat so as to allow Dwalin and Bailn, Bifur and Bofur to take the sofa they had occupied. It was astonishing to see how neatly all twelve Dwarves and Gandalf managed to fit inside my cousin's living room, not that it was a tiny room – by Hobbit standards, it was huge – but it certainly did not seem as though it should be room enough for such an infestation of Dwarves.

They were a merry gathering once you were accustomed to their swearing and random bursts of violent belching. The loudest of which came from Oin, I joined in with their appreciative howling and applause. None seemed perturbed by my lacking in femininity, I was by no means very masculine in most ways; however, my preference for ale over wine, and trousers over dresses had warranted much gossip in Hobbiton and the surrounding areas. Not that gossip had ever been a new thing for me, being the only half-Halfling in the Shire had given me both fame and infamy beyond measure. The curious Shire-folk never really knew just what to think of me.

After much discussion of dragons and gold, the Dwarves quietened down, each musing the mission ahead. Slowly they struck up a tune, dark and haunting. First to start a verse was Thorin, his majesty only amplified by the regal gravel of his baritone. Next to join him was Kili; he had the loveliest vocals I had ever heard, it was like singing velvet rolling about the room, undulating alongside Thorin's. Soon all Dwarves were singing. The effect was hypnotic. Soon the entire Hobbit hole hummed with the sound of Dwarfish song, slow and rumbling.

It swirled about my head, mingling with the heady scent of pipe-smoke which came in coloured rings from the corner in which Gandalf perched. Vaguely I was aware that Bilbo had risen once more, but I could not find voice to soothe his worry nor focus to watch his little face as he once more considered the task at hand. Before the song had ended I was drifting into lost places filled with flameless fires and shining darkness. The ancient voices of every Dwarf that ever lived filled my mind, choking on a cloudless smoke of my own imagination; I dreamed of the dangers that awaited us with no fear at all.

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><p><strong>Please review! :)<strong>


	2. Victory Over the Sun

I woke in my usual room at Bag End. It was still dark, but the warm air breezing in from the window told me that the sun would come to visit soon. I had no memory of getting here, but seeing as I was still wearing the clothes of the previous day I gathered that I had not put myself here. I would have to ask who it was, if I remember. Using the adjoining bathroom, I washed and dressed quickly in brown leggings, a beige shirt, my black corset/belt and matching knee-high boots.

I looked to the foot of my bed and there lay the pack, the one Gandalf had collected from the Old Took. I examined, it had everything I would need; a couple of spare leggings, a few shirts, soap, a brush and (most importantly, in my opinion) some spare underwear and socks – though the idea of the Old Took routing through my underwear drawer was slightly unnerving, I just hoped he had one of my aunts do it instead. The bag was a simple black leather and, though laden with the necessities in an appropriate quantity, there was still plenty of room left.

Beside the bag shone the handle of a magnificent sword, sheathed in charcoal leather. The pommel and hilt had been inlaid with precious stones, one of which I was certain was a rather large diamond, the thing must have cost an absolute fortune. The blade itself, once unsheathed, glittered in the light; thousands of tiny facets were cut into one side, creating a shimmering serrated edge whilst the other appeared plain, but was most definitely sharper than anything I had ever used before. It was not alone, there was also a marvellous matching bow, jewels gleaming in the wood. It was of such a size that, whilst it would be functional and no doubt of a long firing range, it would be easily concealed in a travelling cloak, no one would see the outline of it nor notice it unless they were touching it. A sheath of arrows were there too, and a note. It read:

_Dearest Veyra,_

_It is my honour to give unto you weapons from your mother, she had left them with me a few years ago. They belonged to your father, though she would not tell me who he might be. She did, however, tell me that I am to give you these upon your first real adventure and that they would take you to him, if you so wish. Use them well._

_Stay safe, young one._

_Gerontius._

The Old Took seems to know far more than he lets on, but I suppose it is too late to ask anything of him now. The sun was nearing its awakening and there were distant sounds of the waking of the others in the bedrooms further along the hallway; quiet shuffling and stifled yawns.

I crept out of my bed chambers, bringing my possessions with me, as I made my way toward the kitchen where the smell of bacon was beginning to make itself known. The luxury of such a scent on the dawn of their mission symbolised both hope and despair; hope that when they return they will feast once more and despair that it should be many a day or even month before they have such delicious delicacies again. Either way, she was certain that bacon and egg would be enjoyed by all for one last time at least.

Finding Bombur cooking and whistling in Bilbo's kitchen, I slid into one of the free dining chairs at the long table. There were already a few Dwarves (Thorin, Balin, Dwalin and Bofur) and Gandalf awake.

"Good morning, Veyra!" Boomed the wizard, "I trust you slept well,"

I nodded, "I did indeed, thank you." It was quite difficult not to return his glowing smile, even at this time in a morning when I was usually rather irritable. "And thank you to whomever it was who set me to bed." I added on an afterthought, I would hate for any of them to think me rude.

"It was nothing, my dear." Spoke the last person I had expected: Thorin, "We could hardly have left you slumbering upon the stone floor now, could we?" He chuckled. Maybe we could be friends, now he realised that a woman might not be quite as useless on this quest as he had thought.

Once again, I conveyed my thanks and Bombur rushed in with the first batch of bacon and eggs; they were scrambled, poached, fried and boiled. We each of us took a pile for our plates and ate in a contented silence as soon more Dwarves rose.

Last in stumbled a bleary Kili, his hair matted and sticking up at the back, his clothes roughly thrown on and shirt buttoned up incorrectly. Wiping sleep from his eyes with the end of one of his overlarge sleeves he sank into the nearest chair. The chair just happened to already possess an occupant. Said occupant came in the form of myself. He, apparently, had not noticed this minute detail.

"Kili," I wheezed. He looked about himself confusedly, "Though you are far less heavy than some of my cousins whom usually sit upon my lap, I would greatly appreciate it if you were to move so that I may eat."

Immediately the youngest Dwarf leapt at least a foot into the air, apologising profusely in what I could only imagine to be Khuzdul (Dwarvish), vaguely I recognised the word for 'sorry'; the Old Took had taught me phrases in many languages when I was a child. The Dwarf scrambled away, his face a lovely shade of crimson.

"Ghuld ud sahn," I assured him, remembering the sequence for 'you are forgiven', one of the few other phrases I could still recall.

"You speak Khuzdul?" Fili questioned inquisitively.

I shrugged, "Not really, I was taught a few pieces when I was young. Alas, I doubt I should ever remember much more."

Despite my admission, the group appeared to be impressed, with the exception of Thorin who merely scolded Kili, "You would be best to speak to the girl in the Common Tongue, Kili, and to check your seat before you set yourself down." Though he added a laugh, his eyes searched my features with an uncomfortable intensity. I fear he had hoped he would be able to use his mother tongue in discussing things he wished me not to hear and now thought it an inconvenience that I might understand a few words.

I had finished and so took my plate to the sink so that I might wash up. Straight away the dish was out of my hands, a smiling Fili also reached to take my cutlery. "You are not a maid, remember?" He sniggered, smirking down at me. I made to retort, but he was having none of it. "Sit." He ordered. I did as directed.

Soon the Dwarves had washed and dried each piece of china along with all the cutlery. It was only then that I noticed that we were missing one vital person. "Where is Bilbo?" I enquired.

A wall of silence rose between myself and the guests, languidly dissolved by the wizard who had, until then, been quietly smoking on the far side of the room staying out of any conversation. "He says he will not come." He answered, fixing me with a curious stare.

I frowned, "I had almost believed he would accompany us," I confessed, disheartened.

Gandalf sighed, "So had I, alas if he does not meet us at The Green Dragon by the time the sun is well over us, we will be off without him."

That did not fill me with hope, but rather; trepidation. It somehow felt wrong to leave Bilbo, as though he were meant to go on this journey more so than I. "He will beat the sun." I asserted firmly.

"Ten pieces of gold wagers you are to be wrong," Proposed Kili, a smug grin settling about his face.

I considered this, "Done," came my reply, "Though I do hate to take money from people so easily." I found myself teasing.

Soon the entire room were exchanging bets with only four Dwarves (Bofur, Bombur, Oin and Fili) and Gandalf giving Bilbo any credit, though I had the distinct feeling that they were merely humouring me and did not support Bilbo in the slightest. At this point my uncertainty had waned, I severely desired my cousin to come with us and so he would, I prayed to the Gods he would at any rate.

The Company headed outside to where the ponies waited for our departure. I slid my sheathed blade into my boot for safe-keeping noting that it was exactly the right length to slide in unseen and be easily reachable, the bow too clipped into place inside my full-length grey travelling cloak, without being detected. The only thing that could not be hidden was the accompanying sheath of arrows, which I would have to wear upon my back. I did not mind that now though. I attached both bow and quiver to my pony, alongside my bag. The bag was a little fuller now, having had some food supplies and two water skins added.

I had a niggling feeling that the troop were giving me the least supplies to carry because of my being female, it should not bother me, but it did; I wanted to be viewed as an equal and here I was bearing the least burden, but it did feel as though they would see me as a complaining woman if I argued the point.

The Green Dragon took no more than a twenty minutes to get to and once there the Dwarves tucked into yet another meal and yet more ale. These people ate enough to rival the Hobbitish appetite, though not quite, the Hobbits would have already had breakfast, second breakfast and would be starting on Elevenses by now. I wondered how it is they could all stay so trim, none but Bombur had particularly large stomachs, and yet Hobbits were thought strange if they did not have rounded middles. Sadly, the race of Men could not eat as much as they wished without consequence, though I tried. I did join them in a second meal and all too quickly the sun was racing across the sky, as though desperate to win over poor Bilbo, like they were deadly competitors. I had never known time to pass so quickly; whether that was due to my not wanting it to pass or the fact that the gathering was so cheery that I did not notice the time from my enjoyment, I did not know.

"We must away now, if we are to make any progress." Announced Thorin.

I groaned, though I knew he was right; we could not wait for the Hobbit any longer. It was only ten o'clock, but it would soon pass as the last few hours had. Reluctantly I followed them out, slowly readying my pony for our departure.

My pony was a sandy brown with a flowing white mane that contrasted beautifully, I discovered his name to be Tobias. I did not learn the names of the other steeds; I was only just managing to remember the names of the Dwarves and that alone was enough of a feat when many had such similar sounding names and nicknames for one another.

We set out once more, this time heading towards the eastern border of the Shire. Our troop had not gone far before I heard a slight pounding of hairy feet along the path behind us.

"Wait!" Called a familiar voice.

The sun was not yet overhead. I smirked to Kili, who rode beside me. "Looks like I was right," I winked in his general direction.

My attention was taken by none other than my cousin running the dirt track. "I have done it, I've signed it!" Bilbo pronounced proudly, waving a contract similar to the one I had signed the night before.

"Victory over the sun," I cried triumphantly, throwing my arms in the air, ignoring Bilbo's befuddled gaze. A hand found one of mine and pressed something into my palm. I looked over to my right finding none other than Kili, his features dusted with pink as my sapphire eyes found his chocolate orbs. His hand did not move for a long moment after I realised he must have been handing over my winnings. All around us Dwarves were passing and throwing small bags of coins or whatever else they had wagered and those of us with winnings were grinning manically.

"It seems your faith in people has rewarded you," He remarked, "One can only hope it continues to do so." Kili uncurled his fingers from around mine.

I blushed. I did so far too often around this Dwarf, it was not typical of me to be quite as shy as I was behaving at this moment in time. I hardly ever found my cheeks warm, something that I could tell Bilbo was aware of from his knowing smiles. On no, what could he be thinking? This did not bode well. I had no time for shyness or embarrassment now. It just was not me.

Luckily for me none of the Dwarves seemed to notice – well, none of them, apart from Fili, but it was not my embarrassment he had cottoned on to; it was his brothers. At least it was not just me who was feeling timid of people. I faintly heard the two speaking Khuzdul under their breaths, it seemed as though Fili were teasing Kili about something – probably the fact that I had been blushing yet more each time the younger brother happened to peek over my way. Kili appeared to be becoming a little annoyed with it; his words coming faster, louder, harsher than they had been only moments ago. I urged my pony forward, lest I remember any more Khuzdul; I did not desire them to think I would listen in to a conversation clearly not meant for my ears.

I heard Gandalf informing Bilbo that he had known the Hobbit would come all along. It pleased me to know that the wizard had the same trust in my cousin as I, the Hobbit needed people who believed in him in order to believe in himself.

"Gandalf says you told everyone I would come," Bilbo stated once I was close enough to talk to without raising his voice.

I nodded. "I knew you would not wish to miss out on this," I teased, ruffling his hair.

He snickered. "So you came along to keep me company?" He questioned, though we both knew that would not be the answer.

"I could not let you have all the fun for yourself, dear cousin," I mocked. "I had other reasons too though."

"Your mother." He said sagely, he knew me better than anyone else in my life.

Again, I bobbed my head. "She left me these," I indicated my new weapons and revealed the note unto him.

He seemed confused for a moment once he had read the paper. "You have never told me you wished to find your father," He frowned, "I would have helped long ago had you asked." It was as though he were upset that I had not shown any inclination toward finding my father until I was in the presence of strangers.

"It had not been possible," I told him, no one even knew where my mother had been when she fell pregnant, "You know that." And he did. "Besides, I might never find him still. It could all be one of Old Took's fantasies, you know how he can be."

This perked the Hobbit right up, evidently he was troubled by the thought that I had been keeping things from him of all people. I would never do such a thing, there were no secrets between my cousin and I; we were the closest of all the family and had been ever since I was little and he would take me on Shire-adventures.

"Give the Hobbit your pony." Thorin barked at me. I did as told before he could grow angry, I could tell he already had a distaste for me for making them wait for Bilbo.

"No, no, that won't be necessary," Bilbo protested, "I'm sure I can keep up; I've done my fair share of walking holidays, even got as far as Frogmorten once. No, I'll go along on foot, I don't-" The Hobbit got no further; the youngest brothers had plucked Bilbo from the ground and planted him onto my former pony.

"You will ride with Kili," Thorin ordered as he passed me.

Uh oh. I was guaranteed to be a wild fuchsia right this moment. Is there no other I could ride with? I mean, I could not ride with Bilbo, his pony was far too tiny, but surely another could have me ride with them.

In an instant, the Dwarf in question was by my side, silently removing my bag and weapons from my possession and fastening them to his pony, which did appear much larger than the one I had vacated. So much so in fact that I had no idea how in the world I was to climb upon its back. That was until I felt two strong arms grip my sides and hoist me to sit in front of the arms' owner: Kili. Well, I need not have worried about getting on the pony at all and luckily for the Dwarf, I was still short enough so as he could see above my head.

"Thanks," I murmured.

He simply chuckled at first. "You would never have scaled such a distance by yourself, my lady." He informed me, supressing further bouts of mirth.

"Indeed," I muttered coldly. I had thought him to be above such underestimation of me, but he was a male and it seems the entire male species shall forever mistake females as weak.

It was not an uncomfortable feeling, sitting in front of the Dwarf, yet the snickering and staring from the other Dwarves set me on edge; what did they possibly think was going on between me and the pony-sharer? I ignored them and listened only to the teasing banter going on behind me, courtesy of Kili and Fili.

"Brother, if your beard continues at this rate you'll be able to braid it in a few hundred years," Fili mocked, stroking the braids at his moustache.

Kili brushed the comment off, "At least I do not sometimes mistake my moustache for food, _brother_," He sneered over the last word. Though he was joking, there was an undertone to his voice that portrayed he was hurt more than he would let on. I made a mental note to ask him about that later. Personally, I preferred Kili's look over Fili's, not that I would let either of them know that.

"What do you think, Veyra?" Fili questioned.

I shook my head, making a non-committal noise, "I'm not getting involved!" I giggled.

"That means she prefers the braids!" Fili hollered heartily.

I snorted, "Sorry, when exactly did I say that?"

Fili scowled, "I bet she does not even appreciate facial hair… Surrounded by beardless Hobbits… No sense of masculinity." He was babbling along like this for some time and I could feel his brother's silent laughter as he shook behind me. Fili did not look our way for a while, eventually going to join Thorin at the front of the company, muttering about the need of sharp eyes there as well as at the back.

I felt Kili rest his head upon my shoulder, the warmth of his breath stirring my hair brought a heat of blood to my face, thankfully he could not see from his angle. "So you believe a… light covering of beard is better?" He whispered. I could feel his smug expression growing.

"I do not recall having said that either." I shot back.

"I know," He said brightly, "but I can tell."

"Oh, you can, can you?" I countered, turning my head to face his grin with a raised eyebrow, "Pray tell how you can know such a thing of a person you have just met?" The sarcasm in my tone seemed to only amuse him further.

"I just can," He sniggered, raising his head and leaving me to mutter in annoyance.

I really did have a pet peeve of people assuming what I like and dislike; it made me feel as though I had no input in my own decisions, like I was not in control of anything however much I think I am. Though a part of me – a very small and very ridiculous part – did not particularly mind this Dwarf assuming things about me, especially seeing as though he was usually correct in his assumptions.

As the shadows lengthened and dusk began to settle around the Company like a blanket, I could feel myself sagging back into the warm body behind me, my head drooping forward and my eyes growing heavier and heavier. He did not complain.

Thorin halted at the head of the company. "We shall make camp here." We had arrived outside a reasonably sheltered outcrop of rock. Covered by trees over one side, it would be fairly simple to keep watch in a place like this.

"Veyra?" Kili nudged my back gently, I let out a sleepy 'hmm?', "You can sleep as soon as we alight, Vey." He told me. 'Vey', no one had called me that since my mother passed; it had been her pet name for me. It niggled in my mind that I should be annoyed that he had used it, I had, after all, been so upset with Bilbo every time he called me it that he had stopped. Yet it did not sound familiar on his lips, as though he had given me a new nickname, it felt like he was trying to make a strong friendship between us. The Dwarf swung himself from the pony, keeping a hand on my back so as not to allow me to fall. His arms encircled my waist as he slid me from the height of the pony.

"Thanks," I muttered blearily. I unclipped my belongings from the steed and Kili collected his. I tottered over to where Balin was making a fire, the scent and promise of food keeping me awake a little longer.

But not long enough. I woke not too much later to the sound of a low, crackling fire and a hushed conversation that had to be close by. I recognised the four voices. Balin, Fili, Kili and Bilbo were sat a little ways from me when I cracked open my eyes. It was then that I realised someone had placed me on my bed roll and put my blanket and cloak atop my sleeping form. At some point I would have to get to bed without someone putting me there, no matter how touching it was to be looked after.

"Did you sleep well, miss?" Balin chuckled, spying me behind the youngest Dwarves who had their backs to me.

I nodded. "Yes, thank you, Balin. I am afraid I should not be so used to such long treks for some time." I spoke as I clambered over to sit in their little group.

The men snickered. "Nor I!" Bilbo agreed whole-heartedly. I let out a light chuckle. It would certainly be quite some time before my cousin would be accustomed to living outdoors and travelling leagues at a time.

A strange sound echoed from far away into the woods.

"What- what was t-that?" Stuttered Bilbo.

Fili smirked, "Orc call." He supplied without so much as a glance toward the sound.

"Indeed, they hunt in packs; silently sneaking up on weary travellers in the night when all are slumbering, then they creep up and slit your throats. All quiet like, no noise; just lots of blood." Growled Kili, I shivered internally hoping that these creatures were not planning the same thing for us.

Both brothers burst into laughter. Evidently they thought such a thing to be an adventure and not a sinisterly common occurrence. How could they possibly dismiss mass death and murder in such a way?

"You think a night raid by Orcs is funny, do you?" Cut across the voice of Thorin, scowling from the outside of our circle. He had taken the words right out of my thoughts. My expression mirrored the leader. It hurt to see people I thought I could begin to like speak of the devastation left behind by Orc-kind in such a flippant way as to make a joke of it.

"Forgive me, we meant no harm," Kili pleaded. But he was not looking at Thorin; his eyes were focussed intently on my own.

"I cannot even give you the excuse of youth, what with the company you keep." Thorin scolded the brothers, his eyes flitting to me for a brief moment. For the first time since I had met him, he glanced at me with a modicum of respect; as soon as it had appeared, he had hidden it once more.

"Please, Veyra," Fili tried, "we did not mean it."

"I should have realised," Kili joined in, "I forgot about…" He could not bring the rest of that sentence into verbalisation; and for that, I was glad. "Please, forgive me."

I could not deny the regret etched onto the young Dwarf's face, I realised then how much of a child he still was by Dwarvish standards; he would barely be out of adolescence. He had never had to consider the emotions of those around him before.

I waved a hand in his direction, "It matters not." I told him, "It is done and passed now." The smile I wore did not quite reach my eyes.

The elder Dwarf merely took up huff, striding as far away as the camp allowed. He had probably expected me to be as furious as he. That would not have boded well for anyone; when I let myself become angry there are no half measures, I am either inconsolably weeping or screaming like a feral beast, there is no in between and even I cannot tell which bout will take over.

"Don't take it to heart, lad." Balin consoled a crestfallen Kili, "Thorin has more reason than most to hate Orcs," he explained giving me a pointed look. The elderly Dwarf told the story of Azog the Defiler, whom had slain Thorin's grandfather, the last King Under the Mountain, and of how it had been Thorin whom had defeated the Pale Orc using an Oak branch as a shield. So I had more in common with the leader than I had thought: we had both lost loved ones to Orc-kind.

Bilbo yawned, "Tired?" I enquired. He simply nodded.

Balin and the brothers looked exhausted too. "You three should get some sleep," I advised. I really needed to be alone right this moment.

"Kili and I are on watch, though, my dear," Fili explained, "We shall not slumber for a while as yet." He was yawning even as he said it.

"Nonsense," I dismissed, "You are both asleep in the mind already!" Fili did not argue my point for it was true, both were having immense difficulty in keeping their eyes open, let alone peeled for danger. The elder Dwarf and Fili ambled off in search of their bed rolls, they would not get long; the night was already lightening. Bilbo, too, sauntered away once he had given me a warning glance that clearly told me that he did not trust the remaining Dwarf. I shooed him away.

"You cannot keep watch alone," Kili stated sternly, "If you keep watch, then I shall also."

I groaned, "But you are exhausted! Besides, I would not be alone; Thorin is only the other side of camp, you will all be quite safe." I assured him. It was true, Thorin stood to the east of the camp, staring out into the distance, his eyes shining and alert.

"Still," Kili went on, "it would not be very chivalrous of me now, would it?" I must not have seemed convinced, "I have slept enough already whilst you did." He informed me, I had a feeling this sleep had been more a closed-eyed lie down than actual slumber, but I let it slide nodding an unwilling agreement.

There was a silence. Not an uncomfortable one, but companionable.

"Vey?" Kili's voice, though barely audible, sliced through the peace.

"Hmm?" I hummed, cautiously.

"I was talking to Gandalf the first night," He began, plainly wishing he had not, "He told us about your parents." I nodded for him to go on. Where was he going with this? "It's just… I never met my father either."

"I am sorry to hear that," I said, patting his arm. I still had no clue as to where the Dwarf was taking this. Was he simply trying to find a common ground for us?

Kili leaned toward my touch, I quickly withdrew my hand. This Dwarf was still a stranger to me. "I just wanted you to know that you can talk to me, or Fili if you would prefer, we would understand." He assured me, not meeting my eyes. The sentiment was touching, this stranger was willing, if I were inclined to, to allow me to ramble at him and listen. That was sweet.

"That would be appreciated sometime," I thanked him, but made sure to stress that I was not ready to pull him up on his offer just yet. "Can I ask you something?"

It was his turn to be cautious now, his brows drew close and his face became closed off, like he did not trust himself to answer in case I asked something that their leader would not want me knowing the answer to, "You do not have to answer if you do not wish," I promised him.

This calmed him, he nodded for me to proceed.

I collected my thoughts to decide exactly how to word my wonderings. "I was only thinking, what is the importance of beards with Dwarves? I do not wish to be impertinent, but it intrigues me to see such… interesting facial hair."

Kili frowned, as though I had mortally offended him. That was not my intent, I had been solely curious, now I regretted being so, I could have ignored it. I was about to apologise when he raised his eyes to mine with a small smile. "For us, a beard is a sign of pride and dignity. A beard is an extension of the Dwarf, a symbol of their power in battle. To have a great beard is to be a great warrior."

I realised then why he would be so guarded before replying; he was basically saying that his beard, or lack thereof, was seen as a source of shame; evidence that he had not seen battle, being the youngest.

He still looked vaguely ashamed. "Where I am from," I began, "It is not the beard that defines a warrior, nor even the weapons," He looked at me confusedly, "It is the stories they live to tell." It was true; Old Took had a thousand tales to tell, each more daring and amazing than the next, and he was certainly regarded as a warrior as much as it were possible for a Hobbit.

Kili considered this. "Thank you," He told me, though I am not sure it honestly made any difference nor sense to him, but he gave me a grateful smile all the same. I hoped he would not let his lack of annoying facial hair prevent him from being the warrior he could be.

* * *

><p>This Chapter is named after the Biffy Clyro song Victory Over the Sun.<p> 


	3. What Are You So Scared Of?

Rising as one of the last, I did not have the opportunity to change my clothes, though that did not appear to be too problematic for none but Bilbo had bothered to do so either. I settled for checking my bag was in order and folding away my blanket. I was still left with nothing to do long before anyone else would be ready. My hair was knotted and tangled all about my face, it would be beneficial to braid it, yet any attempts to braid my own hair would surely be disastrous, I proceeded with determination. The real problem for me was not being able to see the braid on the back of my hair, nor was I really able to reach properly in order to keep up the tension in each strand. I groaned in frustration as I raked my hands through yet another failed braid.

I was about to resume my practice when a pair of rough hands batted my own away. The hands gently positioned my head so as I could not peek at whom the hands belonged to. Skilled fingers weaved strands of gold in what felt like an intricate plait that trailed down my spine.

"Kili?" I guessed, who else would be so willing to help me? Bilbo would have, of course, but his braids were not nearly so delicate.

The plait-maker chuckled, tying the end if my hair with string. "The young one is not nearly as talented as I, much as he likes to believe." I know that voice – but it could not be…

I turned to find none other than Thorin smirking down at me with an unbelievable Kili-like playfulness. "Though, I do doubt that he is somewhat better at it than you."

"In my defence, I find it far easier not on my own hair." I defended, sticking out my tongue in a child-like manner.

Thorin's expression did not alter. "We shall see. Fili, come here." He beckoned over the young Dwarf - whom had been trying to push his brother into a nearby stream; he had almost been successful too!

Fili rushed forth, his head hung low as though expecting to be reprimanded.

Thorin ordered the Dwarf to sit, something that Fili did without question. I doubted anyone would disobey Thorin without good reason. "Begin," Thorin commanded.

By the direction of his gaze, pointedly glaring at the back of Fili's head, I gathered I was to demonstrate my braiding skills. Why did I have to tell him I had talent in this? My hands shook as I combed out his tangled mane with my fingers. Carefully, yet swiftly I separated strands, entwining them into the intricate design of consecutive waterfall braids that zigzagged down his head and onto his shoulders. Once finished, I could not help but be proud of my work on Fili's now patterned locks, for the toil of my hands it seemed beyond my capabilities and yet I had managed to pull it off. I tried not to let my expression become too smug.

Thorin, on the other hand, did not. His sneer had emerged once more, twisting his features, which had been quite agreeable, into their familiar pattern of superiority. "I have seen Dwarf children with greater talent than that. It is perhaps in your favour that you were not blessed with Dwarven blood, you would make a hideous wife if you cannot even braid a male's hair properly." The Dwarf snickered, slashing his fingers - none too gently - through Fili's hair to dislodge my work before marching away, satisfaction etched into every inch of his face.

How dare he say such a thing?! "I would not wish to marry a stupid Dwarf anyway!" I muttered under my breath, thoroughly seething.

"What about an intelligent one?" I did not have to turn around to know whom it was that spoke. That voice was as familiar to me as my own now.

"Well let me know when you stumble across one of those, would you?" I retorted, perhaps a little more harshly than I should have, but Thorin's comment had hurt. A lot.

I ignored Kili's quiet: "I were only joking, miss" and stormed across camp to see my cousin, the only other non-dwarf I could see. How am I to manage amongst these creatures for any extended period of time when I could hardly speak a moment with their leader without insult? The man was a sexist, insufferable pig and I would be glad to be free of him! To my downfall, I have agreed to follow this troop until the end; whether that means I burn by dragon fire or Thorin's temper, I know not. He had been so kind in helping me, only to humiliate me moments later. The Dwarf-leader was nothing less than infuriating.

For most of the days trek I sulked, occasionally contributing to conversation and even then, only when it involved Gandalf and Bilbo alone - not that any but the youngest Dwarves so much as tried to gain my participation. Dwarves were known for their stubbornness, but they would soon learn that my own could vastly outdo any efforts of stubbornness that they were able to muster. A fact I was not entirely disapproving of.

By the time we were stopped and making preparations for supper and sleep, even Fili and Kili had quit in their attempts to engage me in any sort of interaction and, though I definitely felt rather guilty about that, I cannot say that the silence I found myself drowning in was entirely unpleasant; it gave me space to think things through. Why had I joined this company in the first place? That was easy: the Shire, though I loved it so, had grown boring and I wanted to explore the world beyond my front door. There was also the element of my living up to my mother's reputation, I wanted her to be proud of me. A small part, that grew by the day, even desired me to have my own stories to tell – or for others to tell in the (likely) event of my demise.

Joining this particular party may have been a slight mistake, given that their leader is utterly horrid, but if I had not it may have been a lifetime before another quest came along and as much as the lure of adventure had enchanted me; I was not so ensnared by it as to venture out alone. I would simply have to endure; to learn to tolerate the strange and turbulent moods of Dwarves, just as they would mine.

I pushed aside my annoyance with Thorin, it should not affect my feelings for the others, sighing, and gradually re-joined the bubbling river of conversation. Before too long, however, grumpy, authoritative Thorin was in full swing; he ordered myself, Bombur and Balin to get to work with the stew that was to be tonight's meal. I would not be used to two meals a day for a very long time. Others had been selected for various other tasks, such a scouting and watching the ponies.

A while later Gandalf thundered from the camp, muttering about needing to take counsel with someone who had sense and how irritating Dwarf stubbornness was. I secretly agreed with him; whatever he had been trying to advise Thorin on had not been taken the slightest bit of notice. It soothed me to know that I would not be the only one in Thorin's bad books, not matter how selfish such a thing may seem.

"Miss?" Balin spoke up, gaining my attention, "would you please take these to Fili and Kili?" He asked, politely gesturing to two bowls of stew.

I smiled up at the elderly Dwarf, "Of course."

The brothers were not far from camp, watching the ponies as Thorin had bid them. They both stood with their backs to me, dutifully keeping an eye on the grazing animals. I inwardly noted with faint surprise that the blond Dwarf had redone the same braids I had done earlier, though now they were somewhat more elegant than I remembered.

"Fili? Kili?" I called. Neither turned. "Boys?" Again, no reply. I sighed, "Boys, I am dreadfully sorry for my behaviour earlier, but really; ignoring me is not going to solve a single thing!" I burst. Still no answer.

I came up alongside them forced a bowl into each of their hands, "I said I was sorry!"

Fili blinked, "Excuse me?"

"Oh, do not pretend you did not hear me; I have apologised for being grumpy, please do not ignore me." I pleaded.

Fili blanched, "We did not hear,"

Kili looked confused, but then again; he often did. "Forgive us, we were… preoccupied."

I rose an eyebrow, "With?"

Kili simply pointed in the direction of the ponies. There was something off about the picture, yet I could not for the life of me figure out just what could be missing. Missing. There were trees missing and torn at the roots. There were two ponies fewer than before.

"We're supposed to be watching the ponies," Kili stated in monotone.

"Only, we've encountered a slight problem." Fili explained, clearly trying to make it seem less of a disaster.

"Which is-"

Kili cut me off, "We had seventeen."

"Now there's fifteen." Fili finished.

"Unlucky." I whispered. Fifteen was the most unlucky number imaginable for Hobbits.

The corner of the youngest Dwarf's mouth quirked, "A little."

"Even more so when Uncle finds out." The older brother said, quelling the other's playful smirk at once.

Something snagged at the corners of my mind. 'Uncle'. Whom could be their uncle amongst this party? It had to be someone respected for them to fear his finding out. Of course. It had to be: Thorin. Why had they not cared to mention such a thing to me? I suppose it matters not, but it would have been nice to have been forewarned. Yet again, it was obvious now I thought about it; had I not seen Kili's easy smile playing on the leader's lips only this morning? I felt stupid for not having seen it.

Just at that moment, a flustered Bilbo appeared, two steaming bowls in hand. "Veyra!" He said, his voice filled with a stern quality I had rarely seen before. "You had not taken your own food with you!"

Trust Bilbo to be angry when I miss a meal. "I had planned to go back for it." I assured him – and I had, I was after all half-Hobbit; I was very unlikely to skip a meal, especially when I had been cut down from seven to two a day.

The brothers, however, seemed just as critical as Bilbo, as though they had thought I was not eating. The concern would have been touching if I were not certain that they only felt such concern due to the affliction of my being female. I let it go. I could not afford more grumpiness really.

"Two of the ponies went missing on their watch," I told the Hobbit hoping that I would be let off the hook, and avoiding the betrayed glances the brothers launched my way.

"Daisy and Bungo are missing." Kili told Bilbo.

"Well that's not good," Bilbo chuckled as he surveyed the area, "That's not good at all, shouldn't we tell Thorin?"

Fili rushed to demonstrate how unnecessary informing his uncle would be. "Um, no. Let's not worry him."

Bilbo's eyes widened upon noticing the uprooted trees. "Looks like something big took them." He put in cautiously.

"That's what we were thinking," Kili replied in agreement.

"What do you suppose it was?" Bilbo enquired curiously.

Fili wasted no time in answering. "We were hoping you could tell us."

Kili's eyes alighted, an idea evidently taking shape in his mind. "Bilbo! You're a burglar, right?"

Bilbo nodded uncertainly, "That I am, or so Gandalf tells me."

"So how's about you show us what you're made of." Fili gestured to the trail of fallen trees. "As our official burglar, we thought you might like to look into it."

I could guess where they were going to take this and was vehemently against it. "No," I warned them.

Fili took no notice, "All you'd have to do is follow the trail-" He said this whilst pushing the Hobbit ahead of him as he went along the path of destruction, "-and lead the ponies back once you've found them. All quiet like."

This was a terrible idea. Bilbo was no burglar and this type of reconnaissance mission would surely bode ill for him.

"Look, a light up ahead." Kili informed us, his eyes the keenest of our quartet.

Fili stopped at some bushes close to where a fire crackled in the centre of a round space of grass. Three enormous creatures were sat around said fire, the ponies not far away; enclosed in a make-shift pen. The beasts were vast and flabby, their guts hanging low over their sullied trousers; they each wore trousers and a vest, and all were in a state of decay and filthiness such as I had never seen; their eyes were higher upon the head than I would have thought practical and all shared a constant expression of furious bafflement; and the stench! The stench was unbearable; it was like rotting rubbish and boiling bog all at once. I had to resist the urge to gag.

"What is it?" Bilbo asked. Neither of us had ever looked upon such ghastly beings and I for one would never hope to again.

It was Kili who gave us our answer. "Trolls." He growled.

"You go and get them," Fili ordered to Bilbo, gesturing to the ponies.

Bilbo blanched. "Me?"

Kili smiled, "Of course, you're so small; they'll never notice you! They're slow and stupid. It's perfectly safe; we'll be right behind you."

"Go," Fili urged.

"If you get into trouble hoot twice like a barn owl, once like a brown owl." Kili nodded to himself.

Despite my exasperated look and rolling of my eyes, Bilbo scurried away in the direction of the creatures. I could hear him muttering away to himself. I sighed, I will have to follow him. I crept out of the bushes only to have my arm grabbed, none too gently, from behind me.

"Where do you think you're going?" The owner of the hands still securing me in place, Kili, asked.

I yanked my arm free, "I'm going right behind him!" I could tell by the exasperated turn his expression took that he had not wanted me to take his words quite so literally. "What are you so scared of?" I questioned, expecting no answer and not receiving one.

This time he did not stop me. I crept forward, my toes brushing the edge of the fire-light circle. A pair of weather-worn boots echoed my steps – Kili. The vile creatures were gathered around a boiling pot, quibbling about the lack of 'real' food – one of them complaining that they did not even like horse meat. I could no longer see Bilbo. Until something disastrous happened.

One of the beasts picked a dirt-stained handkerchief from a pocket and violently blew its nose; that is when I located Bilbo's whereabouts.

"Look what just come out me hooter!" Crowed the handkerchief wielding Troll.

"What is it?" Another asked.

The first shrugged, "I don't know, but I don't like the way it wriggles about!" He replied.

"Let's cook it!" A third suggested.

The second examined Bilbo closely, a colossal bogey swinging from his left nostril threatening dangerously to collide with the side of the poor Hobbit's face. "Wouldn't make more than a mouthful, once it's skinned and boned."

I slid my palm into the top of my boot, silently releasing the blade hidden there. Kili gave me a sidelong smirk as he unsheathed his own at his hip. In comparison my blade was dainty and ornate next to his scruffy, worn-looking broadsword. Mine looked as though it could barely slice an apple compared to his, though I knew that was not the case.

The Troll gave the tiny Hobbit a substantial shake, I could almost hear Bilbo's bones rattling about inside him.

"Drop him!" Ordered a suddenly unconcealed Kili. He had leapt from our hiding place just in time to save Bilbo from being dropped into the greasy Troll's leering, slobbering jaws, the beast all but lost hold of the poor fellow that was his captive he was so startled.

"You what?" Mumbled the Troll dully. His hand now gripped the Halfling in a grip tighter than any vice I had ever observed, Bilbo's face had contorted into a worrying shade of purple.

The sight of my cousin's suffering was enough to tear me from my surprise at Kili's outburst. I crept dangerously into view, sidling up to Kili.

"Drop him. Or else," We growled in unison.

The Troll took a few moments to consider this threat. "Have it your way then," It sneered launching the stumbling Hobbit toward us.

Bilbo was flung right into Kili's chest, knocking the both to the ground with a sickening crunch. The Hobbit seemed to have knocked the very breath from within the lungs of both men. The gasping grunts echoed about my ears in a cacophony of wheezing pain.

Without thinking, I spurted into action; my blade knowing what I wanted it to do, where I wanted it to be before I even knew it myself. I had hacked away at two or three ankles before I realised that I was not alone in my attempts to render the trolls harmless, the entire Company had no doubt heard the commotion and were slashing at any limbs they could reach – not that our efforts were doing any good at all. All too easily, the leader Troll had scooped poor Bilbo into his palms once more.

"Drop your arms," It ordered, "Or we'll whip his off." The threat was punctuated by small squeaks from the Hobbit as the Trolls tugged none too gently at each of his limbs.

Unconsciously I looked to Kili for help, I knew not what to do; one side of me suspected that the threat was empty and only intended as a means to ensure that we stopped our blades biting into their thick hides, the other side knew the Trolls would and could easily dismember each of us whilst we still attacked.

Kili set his gaze to Thorin, waiting, as everyone else did, for confirmation on what to do. The Dwarf took a moment to consider his options and, upon seeing no way out of this mess, stuck his sword haughtily into the earth. His youngest nephew turned and nodded to me, throwing his own blade down petulantly. Mine followed his and soon the entire Company had forlornly dropped their arms.

The Trolls leered malevolently, each hoisting a dwarf or two in each hand and stuffing them unceremoniously into itchy, brown sacks.

"Vey! RUN!"

I tried to run as Kili had ordered, but it was not enough. At the Dwarf's shout a Troll had plucked me from the ground the moment my legs began to move. I was squeezed until I ceased my wriggling and slid, slightly more delicately than the Dwarves, into a foul scented sack and thrown to the top of the Dwarf pile, landing heavily upon Bombur and Kili.

I had landed face-down and could not roll over, I had been jammed into the smallest container and could not move an inch, so I did not see that half of the Dwarves had been tied to a spit that hung low over the roaring fire. I did hear it though, half the forest must have heard the complaints and threats made by the outraged Dwarves.

All of my vision was taken up by the face of Kili whom, now Bombur had been picked from the pile, had my full weight atop him, our bodies flush against one another – an occurrence which would have been embarrassing enough had we been close friends, but having only known him a matter of days made the episode far more uncomfortable.

I tried once more to shuffle myself off of the youngest Dwarf, whose entire body went rigid beneath my movements.

"Stop doing that!" He snapped accusingly through clenched teeth. His face softened at my own confused gaze, it upset me that he should be so abrupt when I was only trying to do what I could to ensure my weight did not crush him. "I'm sorry," He whispered, seeming to guess the reason behind my slight hurt, "Just please, try and stay still."

I nodded, slowly understanding why the Dwarf would not desire me to be moving too much atop him. He was a male after all. A blush crept its way up along my neck, filling my cheeks with its rosy tint. I could not quite look him in the eye for a few moments and I definitely ceased all movement, even stilling my breathing as much as I were able.

The Trolls were arguing about how best to serve the Dwarves, myself and Bilbo. It all sounded ghastly; Dwarf Jam, boiled Dwarf and all seasoned with sage? Yuck. It did not sound pleasant - besides, I was allergic to sage as it so happened.

"Wait," Cried Bilbo. "You can't eat them like that,"

"And why's that?" Challenged a Troll.

Bilbo seemed to struggle a moment for an answer, "Because it will taste horrendous!"

"And I suppose you know the secret to cooking Dwarf then?" A second Troll replied.

"As a matter of fact I do." Bilbo proclaimed proudly. "The secret is…"

What in Middle-Earth was the fellow doing?! Offering cooking tips and how best to serve us up! The nerve!

"The secret is?" Echoed the first Troll.

Bilbo sighed, "Yes, yes, I'm getting to it!" He growled impatiently. "The secret is… the secret is to… to… to skin them alive!"

My hopes of a rescue from Bilbo had diminished completely lost amongst the calls of 'traitor!' and 'idiot!' that came from both the pile beneath me and those on the fire. From the sounds of it Bombur was still in the hands of a Troll.

"Nonsense," piped up the third Troll, "I've eaten plenty with their skin on. Nothing better than a bit of raw Dwarf, I eat 'em bones an' all!" It sounded as though this was the Troll who held Bombur.

"I wouldn't eat that one if I were you," Bilbo interjected.

"And why not?"

Bilbo chuckled nervously, a trait that I shared also. "Because... he's got worms… in his… tubes!" Bilbo stumbled out. "In fact they all have, completely infested. Nasty business, I really wouldn't risk it if I were you."

A heavy thud and a large groan informed me that Bombur had been thrown aside.

"Infested?" Screamed Gloin indignantly.

Fili tried to untie himself, and failed, "You're a liar!"

"We don't have parasites, you have parasites!" Accused Kili from beneath me.

I rolled my eyes at the Dwarf under me, "Shh!" I hissed.

Thorin seemed to hear me and gave Kili a rough kick through his sack.

"I've got parasites!" I shouted.

Kili gave me a confused stare as though I had gone mad before slowly catching on, "Mine are the biggest parasites!" He claimed, grinning proudly up at me, "I've got parasites as big as my arm!"

Within seconds the whole Company had begun to boast of their parasites as though it were a competition as to who could be the most infected and Kili appeared to be desperately attempting to be the King of the Parasite-infected with all of his absurd proclamations. I had to prevent myself from giggling and giving the whole game away more than once, which only went on the drive the youngest Dwarf to think up even more ridiculous claims, all the while beaming at me.

"What would you have us do?" Interrogated one of the Trolls, turning on Bilbo and ignoring the Dwarves assertions.

A second Troll chimed in, "I suppose you'd have us let them all go then?" He growled.

"Well…" Stalled Bilbo. "You certainly _could_ do that."

"You'd like that wouldn't you! There's nothing wrong with them, I recon!" Assured the third Troll.

"THE DAWN WILL TAKE YOU ALL!" Boomed a magnificently majestic voice that could only belong to the wizard. Gandalf had returned.

"Who's that?" Muttered the first Troll

The second Troll seemed stumped, "I dunno,"

"Can we eat him too?" The third Troll was a buffoon.

There was a tremendous cracking noise and suddenly the clearing was no longer lit only by fire, but the brilliant first lights of the day were infesting every corner they could touch. Only then did I remember the Old Took telling me stories of how Trolls would turn to stone should they meet sunlight. I do not doubt that is exactly the fate that brought the stony silence over our captors.

People were being cut free from their bindings and bags all around me, a cautious Fili gently bringing me to my feet and delicately cutting the bag tie at my throat, concentrating hard so that his blade did not knick my skin. He did the same as he pulled Kili up, giving him a relieved embrace once he was done.

"I see you cannot stay out of trouble," chuckled Gandalf.

"No thanks to your burglar," Thorin muttered huffily.

Ugh. Bilbo's stalling may well have been the difference between us living or being made into jelly, did he not understand that?

Gandalf gave the Dwarf leader a disapproving look, "At least he had the nous to play for time, none of the rest of you thought of that." He responded in a stern tone.

Thorin swept to the ponies in the pretence of ensuring their well-fare. If it were not for my desire to follow this quest until the very end I would have screamed at such an arrogant act, however, I held my tongue for the moment.

* * *

><p>Tonight Alive - What Are You So Scared Of?<p> 


	4. My Paradise

For a long while none of the Dwarves seemed to know quite what to do with themselves – surviving a Troll clan had that effect obviously.

"These Trolls can't have ventured so far from the mountains in the daylight," Gandalf mused, "there must be a cave nearby."

"But Trolls don't come this far south – they have not for an age." I blurted unthinkingly.

Gandalf chuckled grimly, "You are right, young one, they have not," He agreed, "But dark things are creeping throughout the realm, a shadow grows in the north and an evil infects these lands, my dear. I fear you shall encounter a good many more treacherous creatures before your journey's end, Veyra."

I sighed sadly, I had suspected that would be the case. "Then, we should look for the Troll hoard?" It had not meant to come out as a question, yet somehow my mouth had twisted it in such a way.

To my relief Gandalf understood. "What an excellent idea!" He crowed. "Get to it men, you heard the lady; we should look for the Troll hoard."

I sent him a grateful smile, which he accepted with a conspiratorial wink and a grin. We were put into groups, so as not to lose each other and end up alone. As usual, I was attached to the youngest Dwarves; as was becoming the pattern of things.

Kili and Fili's constant jesting made searching for the Troll's lair rather difficult, but nonetheless extremely entertaining. Not a moment went by without a teasing comment or jape, I even found myself joining in occasionally.

"Brother," Fili called mockingly from half-way up a tree, "Remind me again of the sound you made when Bilbo hit your chest," He implored jocularly. "Or Veyra, for that matter."

Kili laughed heartily, a small hint of pink clouding over his cheeks, "Probably one of disgust, after all; she does have parasites," He prodded me in the side.

"Well at least I don't have to prove I've got the _biggest_ parasites," I shot back, Fili guffawing like a lunatic and Kili's face becoming yet still brighter.

"I think he's overcompensating for something…" Fili stage-whispered in my ear.

Kili threw his head back in defiance, "I can assure the both of you that I have nothing to compensate for in _that_ department, thank you!"

"And which department would _that _be, Master Kili?" I chimed in mock innocence. A thrill of victory racing through my spine as I managed to elicit the deepest blush I had even witnessed grace the youngster's visage.

The Dwarf spluttered for a moment, feigning a cough in an attempt to cover how unexpected this retort had been to him. It was actually rather adorable; his nose crinkled and eyes wide with surprise gave him the countenance of a startled puppy and who in the world would have it in their hearts to not find that to be one of the cutest things imaginable? Not that I would ever intimate to him that comparison, nor anyone else for that matter. That would be a great embarrassment.

Kili's stuttering only came to an end when something foul hit our senses. An assault of the most malodourous and offensive scent came over us in a wall of potency. A sniff was enough to confirm that it could only mean that a Troll cave was in the vicinity. Unbelievably, it smelled far worse than the Trolls themselves; evidently they had lived there for a long while.

Fili lit a torch and was the first to investigate, followed by Kili whom forced me behind him as though he expected a legion of Trolls to leap from the bushes. No more than a meter from where they stood an outcrop of rocks concealed the entrance to the most grotesque and vile dwelling Niamh had ever witnessed; there were grubby loincloths lining the walls and filthy rage decorating the patchy and uneven floor of the cave, chunks of mouldering food lay under carpets of maggots, webs of spiders created veils that screened each new horror. Strewn about the cave were trunks and bags filled to bursting with gold and jewels and clothing and countless other treasures that seemed so out of place in such a rotting pit.

"I think I shall let you boys hunt through this mess and I'll find the others," I suggested, I had no idea how long I could withstand such a putrid surrounding.

"I think I shall join you," Kili piped immediately, pinching his nose in an attempt to block out the musky scent of eau de la Troll.

Fili scoffed, "Not so fast, little brother. If you leave, I shall be forced to take your share of this treasure as well as Veyra's." He taunted.

"You can have it!" I called back as I clambered from the cave as fast as I could.

I could tell Kili would not be accompanying me from the faint squabbling that could be heard from below.

Luckily – or unluckily, as it brought me back to the Troll's lair – it did not take very long to assemble the rest of the company; they has not strayed far for fear of losing each other or getting lost themselves. None of the other Dwarves seemed too perturbed by the smell nor the utter disarray of the cave as they plundered all they could carry from the Troll's stash. Only Bilbo shared my displeasure, completely refusing to enter for a long time; until he was all but dragged inside by an impatient Gandalf.

Fili was the first to emerge, his arms brimming with treasure; he dropped a large pile by my toes. "Are you sure you have enough there?" I prodded with a light chuckle.

"And more," He replied, dropping a little more. "I thought you could do with some though, something to show for the journey when you get home."

I gasped, "Really? But you said-"

"I was merely kidding, my lady, did you think I would allow you to help us find that pit and not reap the spoils?" He questioned, slightly affronted. "Of course not!" He answered in response to my shrugging. "You are one of us now, and we share whatever we find together."

"Thank you," I whispered, touched by the sentiment.

"Just don't tell Kili I gave you it," He sniggered, "Say it was Bilbo or Gandalf."

I shrugged, "Okay,"

Fili helped me store what coins and silvers I could in my small bag, thankfully most of it went in without complaint and the residual treasures fit easily inside my cloak pockets.

"I trust you do not require a sword, my lady," Gandalf snickered, sidling up alongside me as one by one the Dwarves emerged, each desperately requiring a bath after digging around in such a filth ridden lair.

I giggled, "I would rather keep to a blade that does not carry the stench of a thousand rotting things," It was true; each knife, sword and dagger drawn from the hoard gave off a pungent whiff of Troll, it would not do to carry that around with me; I fear I will smell quite revolting enough by the time I return home without a ghastly odorous blade sheathed at my hip. Besides I had enough weapons as it was.

"No," The wizard agreed, "You already have weapons you can use with skill," He commented with a wink. "You have your mother's style, she taught you well."

"Thank you, she was the best sword-maiden in all of the Shire. That's not exactly remarkable though, there never have been many a weapon-wielding Hobbit, male or female." I remarked.

Gandalf sniggered, "Probably wise, those little-folk would likely be a most fearsomely deadly race if they were all of them armed and trained. It is a frightening notion to say to least!"

This time we laughed in unison. Indeed, the mere idea of an army of tiny Hobbits was both amusing and unnerving; such gentle souls did not suit the armour and hostility of an army, it just seemed down right out of place what with their features most naturally inclined to a lazy grin.

The wizard shifted the topic, "And how are you finding the Company? They are a rowdy bunch, but a more loyal lot you would be hard pressed to find."

"They are agreeable," I answered scanning the group until my eyes landed on a certain Dwarf, "Most of them at least."

Gandalf followed my gaze knowingly, "Thorin is stubborn and not at all accustomed to the company of females on quests, nor females in any case generally," That did not necessarily make me feel any better, the Dwarf leader barely knew me and already he had acquired a disliking to me. "But he will realise his foolishness in no time, child." Gandalf assured with a chuckle, "Especially if his nephew has anything to do with the matter."

I blanched, "I have not the slightest idea of what you speak." I hedged, by not I was sure to be glowing magenta. There was no room for mistaking as to what Gandalf had meant; the youngest Dwarf had certainly taken a shine to me, but did I really have the time for friendship when we were on such an important mission?

The wizard sniggered knowingly, but said nothing; which was just as well, for Bilbo and Dwalin had deigned to join us where we sat on an overturned log. They were bickering with furious politeness about whether it would be better to bury the rest of the treasure or leave it in the cave.

"If it sits there others will come and plunder everything we found!" Dwalin argued.

Bilbo huffed indignantly, "Isn't that what we have just done?! Besides, no one in their right mind would wish to investigate such a horrid stench." He countered.

They continued on like this for some time, eventually deciding to bury a little of it and leave the rest to chance, whilst stuffing as many of the treasures as would fit into their bags and pockets, even their beards. It was surprising how much space they were able to find when it came to storing precious gems and gold, it would seem there was no end to the ingenuity of Dwarves when it came to storing treasure. I struggled to believe how much of it they had actually found, but Dwalin assured me repeatedly that this load was a mere rain drop in comparison to the seas of gold and diamond and gems and metals of Erebor – even to imagine that amount of treasure made me feel dizzy. What could one hope to do with that amount? I should think it would end up as clutter, no one could possibly organise and store such oceans tidily, surely it would just get in the way and be a nuisance? I think I might refuse any share, I could not think of anywhere to put one fifteenth of an ocean in my little bedchamber back home; I certainly did not have enough drawer space nor did I have enough room in my closet. I suppose I could share in with all the little Tooks, they might appreciate it.

We resumed our march by midday, all of us glad to leave behind us the scent of Troll and eager to put as many leagues as possible between ourselves and the stone creatures for fear of there being more around – if there was one group, why not more? It was arduous work after the night's adventures, what with rope burns and bruises abundant throughout the company and the lack of sleep (for none had slept this night) ensured that everyone was sore and irritable, the treasure having only lifted their spirits briefly.

After a few leagues of forest and muted conversations, voices rose from the top of the column.

"I would not set foot amongst that filth for as long as I draw breath!" Thorin boomed, clearly outraged. "They did not come to our aid in times past and they will not now."

Gandalf responded with exasperation, "You are not your ancestors, nor are these the same kind!" Evidently the wizard found the Dwarven leader to be obtuse. "They will gift us with rest and nourishment both of which your men could well do with before we tackle those!" The wizard indicated something up ahead that I could not yet see.

The company came to an abrupt halt as they all saw whatever it was Gandalf had indicated. I pushed past each Dwarf that obstructed my view and I too was stunned by the sight. Ahead, peeking through an archway of branches was the horizon and at the base of that, lay hope. A cluster of magnificent mountains crowded below the sinking sun, orange and grey in the evening light. Clearly they were not the Lonely Mountain, for there were more than one; but if my knowledge of maps is to be trusted, then we were heading in the right direction. The Misty Mountains would be treacherous to cross over for a certainty, and yet none of us could muster an ounce of dread at the thought tired as we were.

"We could certainly do with a rest before we ride that road," Balin chuckled, dissipating the stupefaction of the Company.

"A few years ought to do it," Suggested Bilbo.

The Company barked into laughter, assuming Bilbo to be joking; the look on the Hobbit's face told another story. Poor Baggins really did not wish to be on this journey at all and quite rightly too, I was not overly fond of the thought of my cousin seeing the dark creatures and times that Gandalf seemed so adamant we were to face before the quest ended.

Thorin bristled. "The wizard would have us crawling to Elves of all creatures! He would see us grovelling like peasants for scraps of food and trading our secrets for a bale of hay on which to sleep!"

One by one, each Dwarf showed their disapproval through violent gestures or words – mostly Khuzdul – that portrayed a definite distaste for Elves that I could not understand. I made a mental note to ask about this grievance later.

Gandalf met my confused gaze and rolled his eyes. "They will do no such thing!" He boomed over the complaints of some of the other Dwarves who seemed to think a rest with Elves would be worse than facing Smaug. The air seemed to become thicker, darker, and harsher on the lungs. Gandalf, too, appeared darker and harsher than he had been a moment ago, he grew taller as he glowered down upon any Dwarf who looked like he may still disagree. "Lord Elrond will take care of you all as equals, he has no quarrel with you."

"Lord Elrond?" I recognised that name from one of Old Took's tales, "Of Imladris, the Last Homely House East of the Sea?"

"And West of the Mountains. The very same," Gandalf nodded approvingly, returning to normal, some of the Dwarves seemed less wary somehow in the belief that this Elf-lord was known in parts of the world where danger was a story by the firelight and nothing more. "Rivendell is where we will go and that is an end of it."

There would be no arguing with Gandalf once he had set his mind to a path; that was made abundantly clear. Not that I really had the heart to; a rest was exactly what this bruised bunch needed, even if it was with the Elves. I had always wanted to see a real Elven city anyway. Elves often used to pass through the Shire, though they seldom did of late, and it was always a magical treat to behold their beauty and hear their songs – even though they sung mostly in Elvish tongues, I imagined they told stories of great deeds and noble quests and everything that was good and right in the world. I had not heard an Elf-song for near ten years now (a half of my entire life!) and to hear them sing again would lift the spirits of each Dwarf, of that I was sure.

All the tales of Lord Elrond painted him to be as wise as the highest wizard, as gentle as the smallest Shire-folk, as just as the most worthy of Kings and as fair as the first morning of summer. It would be a tale to tell back home to meet him in person, just as Old Took had! Thorin could send me home as he wished, as long as I had the privilege to see the Elf-lord first.

Slowly Thorin grumbled his assent and the troop followed the wizard, some more reluctantly than others; Oin and Gloin still had their concerns, but they kept their complaints under their breath and Gandalf pretended he did not notice their disquiet.

The forest had dissolved into plains of long grasses, sprinkled with large outcroppings of rocks and a few sparse tree copses; none of which bore any ripe fruit, to the disappointment of a Hobbit and half Hobbit whom were both accustomed to a seven meals a day (not including snacks) instead of the few berries we had each eaten that morning. All the while Gandalf described Rivendell as a hidden refuge. Hidden for their defense, remarked the wizard when Balin suggested they might ambush our party should they fancy. I doubted they would, it seemed nonsensical to me for them to attack us without a given reason, even if we were an abnormally large group travelling their way, surely the wise Lord Elrond would greet us cordially. That is, unless one of the Dwarves offends him, which I hope for their sake they do not. Elves are remarkably fair-tempered, but they are not forgiving once scorned – or so the Old Took used to tell my cousins and myself.

It had long since passed nightfall when Gandalf brought us to a halt beside one cluster of rocks and stone, which I noted were slightly lighter in colour than the others we had passed and of a coarser, grainier texture. Gandalf had not stopped more than a moment when he darted behind the rocks, quicker than I would have dreamed the old man capable. He was gone, utterly evaporated into thin air!

"Elf treachery!" Thorin asserted in an angered cry.

"Stay back, lassie! It could be dangerous!" Dwalin barked in warning as we collectively worked our way around the stones and forced me toward the back of our cluster. Each Dwarf examined every pebble, I suppose as miners they were experts in this sort of thing. I did my best to peer over their heads (jumping on many occasions) to see where the wizard could have gone to. At last I saw it.

"Look," I pointed, "Stairs!"

There they were, between the two largest obstacles was a cramped and steep stairwell, dimly lit from within, it would doubtless be a long fall should anyone not pay careful attention to where they stepped in such poor light.

"After you then," Fili smirked, granting me a mocking bow and gestured for me to pass him. The others made a clear path for me.

I folded my arms, "What happened to 'stay back' and 'it could be dangerous?'" I demanded petulantly, I would never admit to any of these men that I was a little nervous about going ahead of everyone else, nevertheless I was.

"Ladies first." Thorin put forward coldly. There was no hint of joking in his voice, clearly it was an order and not a suggestion. No doubt he would not allow any of his men to brave the stairwell until I had given them the all clear. He really did not like me, he probably preferred the Elves to myself. In that case the feeling was mutual.

I forced myself to stride confidently past the other Dwarves. I would not be beaten by the leader who called himself a king; he was not my king, he had not earned the right to be my king. I made certain to bump Thorin's shoulder as I reached the top of the stairs, he deserved to know that I had about as much respect for him as he did for me.

I took a breath to steady myself, the stairway was steeper from the top than it had appeared when I was not to be the first to venture down them. Unseen by the others, who seemed unable to watch my descent, a hand wrapped itself around one of my own. I did not need to look to know who it belonged to; the pressure was familiar to me, even though I had only felt it once before and then there had been a purse of coins between the most-part of our flesh.

Kili gave my palm a gentle squeeze. "I'll be right behind you." He vowed in a voice so low, I doubt even Elvish hearing would have managed to pick it up. I squeezed his hand back and with that he let go, the ghost of his palm still holding on to my own.

The first step was the hardest, after that it was a case of using the sandstone bricks in the walls to steady myself and squint in the vague orange glow of the torches so as to see each new step. The stairwell went on for far longer than I had thought and every footfall of mine echoed on and on. Eventually I hit the final stair and was left in a narrow hallway from what little I could see of it; the light from the stairs was the only thing that penetrated the inky blackness and that did not count for much.

"I had guessed you would be the first," came a voice from the dark.

I leaped back in surprise as Gandalf lit his staff before me. However, I was startled again as I hit a solid wall that I was sure had not been behind me, were not the stairs still at my back? The answer was yes, and no. The stairs were behind me, but there was something, someone rather, betwixt myself and said stairs.

Kili. Of course. Had he not vowed he would be behind me? I had not taken his word quite so literally. I could not deny being incredibly relieved to find him there, if not a little miffed that he seemed to think me too delicate to go down alone, it was touching for someone to actually care about my safety though. Kili sniggered at my shock, but patted my shoulder reassuringly.

"Last Dwarf to make it down is a girl!" Kili called up the stairs, "No offence," He added to me in an afterthought.

I laughed, "Not at all," I grinned.

Soon every Dwarf had descended from the surface, with Bilbo ensuring he came just before Nori, he certainly did not wish to be a girl. Poor Nori endured many a jape from the others as he joined lastly.

"We should not linger any longer," Gandalf said, "Our host will not appreciate us hiding away in his front porch." He snickered, "Onwards!" The wizard led the way once more, his illuminated staff was greatly useful as we traversed the uneven floor of the corridor.

A sudden burst of sun vanquished the need for the staff and blinded our Company for a brief moment, the light was so pure and brilliant it took one a moment to become used to it. Before them lay the Valley of Imladris in all of its glory. The hallway emerged onto a platform as large as any great hall and perfectly circular that gave a view of the entire valley. All around there were beautiful homes almost carved into the valley's sides, perched delicately above majestic waterfalls with stairways that twisted around and behind each one to every house and hall. At the bottom could be seem a fantastic market and arena, scattered with great halls and gardens and statues; all designed by gods from marble and precious stones. I had never witnessed a more beautiful place to live. How the Old Took had ever wanted to return to the Shire after so many visits here, I could not comprehend.

At the far end of the platform stood Lord Elrond himself. The Old Took had not lied, or so it would seem. Our host appeared elegant, knowing and handsome beyond words. He had intelligent hazel eyes, filled with the wisdom and thought of the world; his face both young and old, but without a hint of ageing; hair so dark and thick and perfect it made me curse my own tangled dirty-blonde locks; he wore the robes of a lord with the ease of breathing as he glided soundlessly across the stone to meet us.

"Welcome, friends, to the city of Rivendell." Elrond spoke with the fluidity of water, in an accent that I recalled as a child. It was a friendly, comforting tone that spoke of warm hearths, good wine and pleasurable company. Or maybe that is how I associate it, given that that is how I often saw the Elves as a child, though obviously I never tasted any of that good wine.

"Lord Elrond," Gandalf greeted warmly.

"Mithrandir," Elrond returned, taking the wizards outstretched hand and clasping it between both of his own. "It is good to see you again, though it is a troubling time for you to bring friends. We too have foreseen the Great Shadows."

Gandalf smiled wanly. "Indeed, times are most uncertain, but we will be of little inconvenience, I can promise you."

Elrond glanced to our Company. "Thorin, son of Thrain, it is a pleasure to house you and your people in our city, please enjoy your stay." Thorin nodded a thank you that did not seem at all sincere and yet it pleased the Elf enough to move on. It was unnerving how the Elf knew each name and story without being told, but that was the way of Elves, especially the Seers. "It is good to welcome Shirelings once more in Imladris, master Bilbo and Miss Veyra. We have not had visitors of your kind since Donnamira's passing. We are sorry for your loss." He looked genuinely saddened.

"You knew my mother?" I could not help the question leaving my lips, she had never told me that she had ever been to Rivendell before.

Elrond smiled solemnly. "For a time. She did not leave the Shire so often once you were born. She had sent word that she would bring you to see us on your last Birthday, but alas…"

I nodded, but gave no verbal response. What could I possibly say? Nothing would have been better than to have experienced this Elven paradise with my mother, but it was not to be. Strangely, not a single tear crept to my eyes. She would not have wanted them to, but I felt oddly empty to be in this place without her when, if things had only gone to plan, it would have been her to see the wonder on my face as I looked upon this magnificent valley for the first time and not some rowdy rabble of Dwarves. At least I had my cousin here with me. Bilbo may not seem much to the others, but he was family to me; and family means everything.

"Come," Elrond ordered gently, "You will be hungry. Amin anta lle apsa ar serya."

Bofur spat at the floor angrily. "The Elf means to show us insult!"

Gandalf rapped him over the head with his staff. "You great buffoon!" He chided. "Lord Elrond has offered you all a good meal and some rest!"

"And we should be glad to receive it," Bilbo assured he lord, ever one for politeness Bilbo always remembered his courtesies.

We were lead down another hidden stair into a grand dining hall, lined with benches and long tables and, most importantly, festooned with the most amazing array of foods imaginable. There were fresh breads and jams of every berry I had ever known and more besides; cooked meats and smoked cheese; platters spilling with foreign fruits and vegetables that I could tell none of the Company (Gandalf aside) had ever seen in their lives; and soft juices and rich wines and strong hardy ales lined each table in ornamented pitchers ad jugs. Even a Hobbit would have trouble devouring everything before us and yet we all managed slightly more than a healthy portion each; though Bilbo may have eaten plenty more than most, he was easily outstripped by Bombur who ate whole wheels of cheese to himself and nearly half a wild boar. We would certainly sleep well tonight.

When the night did come calling, our host showed us to a long cabin that held inside enough beds to house a Company twice their size. Gandalf was conspicuously absent. The beds had an inviting looking feather pillow and soft duvet each that yearned to be snuggled in.

"I can find other lodgings for you if you are uncomfortable sleeping with the men." Elrond put in whilst we all found the beds we wanted.

Thorin scowled, "I will stay with my men." He asserted. "Thank you," He added in an attempt at politeness.

"Forgive me," Elrond implored, though his eyes spoke that he did not desire any forgiveness from the Dwarf leader. "I had meant Veyra, being that she is female…"

Thorin's face was a picture, if only I could capture it forever. The look of affront and embarrassment was delicious. He stomped away grumbling about respect.

"I thank you for your kindness, but I would be lost in a room alone after my travels, my Lord." I answered. It was true, I could be just as polite as Bilbo when I was so inclined. The Elf permitted me an understanding nod and excused himself.

As I lay in my bed I pondered on just why I had said no. Did it have anything to do with what I had said, or was it more to do with the fact that Kili had chosen the bed next to mine? On the one hand, the thought of being completely alone – of silence – frightened me no end; these noisy Dwarves had desensitised me to their racket and now the quiet was a sign of danger and worry to me. On the other hand, I could not tell what I really thought about Kili; he made me laugh and blush all the time, and he seems to want to look after me – more so than the others at any rate – and he is good looking. For a Dwarf. Not that I would tell him that, he probably still thinks I am a mere child as all the others do.

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><p>The Elvish in this chapter is from a translator so if it is complete nonsense to those who can actually read it, then i apologise.<p>

Please review!


	5. If You Could See Me Now

**So guys, I'm now on holiday from uni until late September so I hope to get more of this story fully written whilst I have time. **

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><p>"Vey?" A worried whisper fell into my ear. "Vey, are you well?"<p>

I mumbled an assent, to which way I did not know. I was half asleep. I had been waking every now and then since we turned out the lights.

"You sure?" The voice persisted. Kili. Obviously.

I sat up slowly, wiping my face, which was oddly damp, maybe I had been drooling. I nodded, "I am quite well, thank you." I replied, sleep making my voice break unevenly.

Kili studied my face in the grey half-light that comes before dawn. "You were crying," He explained, "Don't worry, it was not loud, no one else heard." He hurried when I blanched.

"Sorry for waking you," I bumbled, slightly relieved that I had not begun drooling in my slumber.

"I was awake anyway, couldn't sleep." He pushed his hand to the side to wave my apology away. "Neither could you." It was a statement, clearly he had seen my disturbed night. I wonder what it was that kept him from oblivion. "Do you wish to talk about it?" He breathed, his voice so low that I could have reasonably ignored it should I choose.

"They are only dreams," I assured him; and they were, albeit dreams that distressed me a great deal.

Kili moved to sit on the edge of my bed where I had now sat upright. "You can tell me, if it would please you, I would keep it to myself." He promised, patting my shoulder warily, as though he thought I might run screaming from our lodgings should he get too close. He let the hand fall to my knee and I stilled, not wanting him to remove it, but also not wanting him to get the wrong idea; especially when I was at a loss as to just what the right idea actually was.

I sighed, collecting my words. "It has been a long while since I last had this dream, since a couple of months after my mother…" I blanched, I could still see her face from the dream. "She's always there with her back to me, always leading me through the Old Forest back in the Shire. I only ever went once when I was little; it's such a queer place and the trees are never where they were before, and they whisper to one another too. Or at least, that is how I remember them," I shrugged. "That's where we were anyhow, and my mother takes me through the trees, twisting and turning away from strange cries and shouts that echo from everywhere."

That was not the worst part of it, though I had paused Kili seemed to know that there was more to come and bless his heart he waited as patiently for me to continue as a flower does for spring. Eventually my voice flowed through my lips without my truly being aware of it, I was back inside my dream now. "After a while there's a man we follow, he carries a bow, and he keeps gesturing to us and calling, but his voice never reaches us and then he turns to face us only – he has no face, there's nothing there at all. And mother starts screaming about fire and he begins burning. She finally turns to me and she's covered in blood and I lift my arms to try and help her, but I can't. I can't. I am made of fire and blood and darkness and I can't – I just can't-"

And that was usually when I woke up. I could feel my cheeks growing wet once more and my eyes were sore, but my hands were already occupied, I found that they were turning over and examining the Dwarf's hand that had previously been resting upon my knee. I could not remember deciding to do this and yet once I had noticed it was going on I could not imagine a good enough reason to stop. Not that Kili had complained at all.

I also realised I had been sobbing, how embarrassing. I hoped none of the other Dwarves would hear this, it would be bad enough to remember telling Kili this, but he was silently considering all I had told him. The sobbing came harsher, the tears no longer coming regularly, but in waterfalls then trickles.

The Dwarf leant his head upon my own and put his free hand to my face, wiping away the tracks that ran the length of my face, shushing me softly as I wept. Strangely my thoughts only turned to worries about how blotchy and horrid my face must look now from all this crying. In one sense I was ashamed of it being Kili who had seen me in such a way and yet at the same time, I was glad it had been him; I could not envisage Thorin treating me so kindly and I did not think having Bombur assert that I would feel better if I ate would do much good. No, I was pleased Kili was here by my side. Without really saying a word, the Dwarf had consoled me to the point of the choking sobs all but disappearing, leaving unattractive hiccoughs in their place.

It felt infinitely better to tell someone about this dream that had plagued me, no matter how twisted and unimportant it was. I had guessed that the faceless man was supposed to be my father, hence my not knowing what his face would look like, but his sudden bursting into flames baffled me; as did the blood and fire I always found cloaking my own skin. I gathered that I would never fully understand the meanings and perhaps I was not supposed to. Just then I did not care, the tears had worn me out and I slowly found myself dozing on Kili's shoulder, my hands still not letting go of his.

I woke to discover two things: firstly, Kili talks in his sleep and secondly, we were still sat upright my head on his shoulder and his atop mine. There were but a few remaining Dwarves still in the lodgings with most having probably followed the scent of another delicious feast that hung in the air. I tried desperately not to move so as not to disturb him, I had a feeling that he would not have slept until he was sure I was okay. My efforts were wasted however when I caught the eye of an already up and about Fili.

"Oi, beardless!" He crowed in his brother's direction. "Not you," He added to me with a wicked wink.

Kili was awake instantly, jumping with surprise and a hand flying to the hilt of a sword I had not realised he had been wearing. His eyes focussed slowly on the blond brother and his shocked half-asleep expression turned into one of annoyance. "I was sleeping!" He complained.

"And Veyra's hungry," Fili shot back simply.

As if on cue my stomach gurgled loudly. I had not even realised I was so hungry, it actually ached and heaved; as though I would be sick if I did not have something to eat soon. I cannot imagine how the Dwarf had known. Perhaps my stomach had been complaining earlier or something like that.

"You should have woken me!" Kili chided, realising that I could never have hoped to move without doing so.

I shrugged, "I didn't want to, you said you had not slept well."

He pulled me to my feet. "I slept well enough for you to be able to eat, Vey." He whined.

"I was only awake for a moment," I told him. In truth a part of me was somewhat disappointed that we were not still sat with my head on his shoulder, he was warm and he smelled of the earth and iron, a good scent even after weeks of not bathing. The smells of some of the other Dwarves weren't nearly as pleasant, though I doubt I could possibly still smell as a girl should after so long sleeping on the ground and not being able to change and wash every day. Thinking about it made me squirm, I would have to find a bath or stream somewhere in this valley, but first: food.

Once Kili had ensured that I was fed and watered I endeavoured, quite successfully to find a bath house of sorts so I could finally be clean. These Elves were very nearly as polite as Bilbo; the girl I had asked had pretended I did not smell like I had never heard of soap before, which was kind of her as I must have smelled doubly terrible to her Elven nostrils – Gandalf had informed me of their heightened senses, I realised that was why the Dwarves spoke amongst themselves in whispers at all times which was unnerving coming from beings that did nothing but shout. She had even offered to wash my clothes for me – all of them! Of course I said that would be most welcome. It would be a shame, after finally bathing, to ruin it by putting on dirty clothes again.

The bath chambers were pleasantly warm, the air moist and saturated with the clean odour of some flower that I had never seen before, but whose petals were scattered everywhere; in the water, on the stone floor, around small candles. It was quite a relaxing sight, I was saddened to leave it once clean knowing that it was like as not I would not be able to have such a luxury again for a long time after we depart, and from the twitching agitated glances Thorin threw at the Elves it would probably be a swift departure.

The young Elf-maiden – Elyah, her name was – returned my clothes and happily insisted I take a tunic from her people as a welcome gift, saying she hoped I would return, though she hinted that I should maybe leave the Dwarves at home next time. I learned that she was only one hundred, an Elfling by her people's standards. It was fascinating to speak to someone so willing to share about their culture, when she asked of mine I felt slightly unimportant; the Shire was lovely and peaceful, but we had few traditions and celebrations that did not involve a harvest, these people celebrated the moon and the stars, the sun and the wind, everything and anything beautiful was praised, Hobbits could learn a thing or two from the Elves.

I dressed in my usual black leggings, but opted for my new tunic instead of my normal shirts. The tunic was made of beautiful azure silk, the same tone as my eyes, and ornamented with silver birds and trees, it actually gave me a woman's shape which was usually hidden by my baggy shirts. It fit surprisingly well, it must have been made for a very young Elf indeed.

She bid me farewell when we reached the lodgings the Dwarves and I had been allocated as she thought it would be impertinent of her to intrude, though I insisted she would be welcome, especially after she had helped me so much. I headed inside and piled my newly washed clothes onto my bed and began packing, waving a 'hello' to Kili, Bofur and Balin as I passed.

"You smell nice," Kili commented. "Not that you smelled bad before," He added hastily, a soft blush upon his cheeks.

I giggled, "Thanks, a girl I met-"

"And where have you been?" Boomed a stern voice behind me. There were only four Dwarves in the room and I had not realised the leader had been amongst them.

I continued putting my clothes in my bag and replied steadily. "I went to bathe,"

"What were you thinking going off with these creatures? They are dangerous," He was still shouting, his words drawing the attention of the others. "Are you really as stupid as you look dressed up like those filth?!"

"Uncle, she-"

"She needs to learn that she cannot wander off when we are surrounded by enemies," Thorin cut Kili off with a scathing scowl. "I knew bringing a woman-child on this journey would be a mistake. You have and will be nothing but trouble, I wish Gandalf had not worked his magic to have you accompany us. I have never met such an ignorant little girl in my entire life!"

I blanched, a poisonous bile filling my throat. I threw the clothes in my hands to my bed. "You may mislike Elves for whatever pathetic reason you so choose, but they have been nothing but kind to me and I will treat them as I please. If you cannot accept that – woman as I may be – I am just as capable and intelligent as any male, Dwarf or no, then perhaps I am a wasted tool in your service."

"If you are so intent on recklessness, then it is for the best that I release you from your contract." Thorin countered.

"As you wish," I replied, stuffing the rest of my possessions into my bag unceremoniously. "And I hope you are a better King than you are a person, for the sake of all those who will be under your rule. Thank the Gods, you will never be King over me."

I shouldered my bag and left the lodgings where immediately voices were exploding, I noted that Kili's was the most prominent amongst them. I ended up wandering aimlessly around the Valley, passing through the market and following streams. I regretted agreeing not to accompany the Company the rest of the way, but I would be far happier back home than having to accept Thorin's preconceptions about me and his insults. At least I could say I had been on an adventure, even if I had not been there to witness its ending, I had enough treasure from the Troll hoard to prove it.

The streams were quiet and tranquil, rolling slowly onward, barely whispering as the waters went by. Under the trees the breeze only made the briefest and softest of appearances and each time it rose silent gooseflesh upon my bare forearms. I wrapped my cloak around me, though the cold was not unpleasant. It felt safe here, even without my hidden bow and quiver clipped inside my coat and my blade tucked into my boot. I would never need them in Rivendell, every part of me knew that.

"Thorin will come around," I was not a bit surprised to find Gandalf behind me, nor was I shocked to discover that he knew about the confrontation. The wizard always seemed to know just what was happening and turn up just at the right time. "In the meantime, you can assist me in studying the map." He offered. Of course I knew which map he meant, it was Thorin's, what I was curious about is how Gandalf had gotten his hands on it, Thorin practically slept with the thing.

I shrugged, "I doubt I would be of much aid, but alright."

The wizard handed me the map, and I did my best to seem as though I knew what I was looking at. The truth is: I have never seen a map of anywhere other than the Shire before. I had heard of distant places but I had never seen map nor drawing of them.

This map showed the Misty Mountains, The Lonely Mountain, a forest called Mirkwood, all of which I had never before this quest known existed. There were runes I could not read everywhere, harsh lines, I presumed these to be Dwarven. To the left hand side I could see the faintest scratching lines, not forming full runes but they were something, it was as though someone had written something, but then erased it. There was no definite mark, but when you looked closely, there were slight indents in there parchment at regular intervals. "There were words here." I stated, it could not be news to Gandalf, nothing would escape his eyes.

"Indeed," He agreed, "We just have no way of reading them."

"It is a pity I cannot read Khuzdul." I sighed, "but I imagine the indents do not show full words else you would have already gathered their meaning."

"You are quite right," The wizard agreed with a chuckle.

I tried to remember things the Old Took might have said about Dwarven culture: they can make doors invisible once closed, not helpful in this; they have symbolic braids and care a great deal about beards, still not useful; they have ways of making wording invisible. That was it! Somehow the words could be read. "The words can be read, but they're invisible?" I asked slowly.

"Indeed," He agreed once more, "But how is the question, child. I have tried using the brightest sunlight and candles, but they are no day runes." Which I remembered would glow like hot coals once the right light was found. "They do not shine gold when in complete darkness either." He complained, evidently frustrated that he had yet to figure a way to read the message.

I thought back to Old Took's teachings, "What about Moon Runes?" I recollected that these would reveal themselves in silvery wisps ones under the stars on a cloudless night.

"My child, I think you have it!" The wizard beamed, "If the Dwarf does not require your service then I most certainly do." Gandalf seemed only a little disappointed that he had not thought of it himself. Though I only really dwelt on how absurd it seemed to me to conceal a message on a map; maps were made to be read, what was the point of having a map that you could not read whenever you fancied? I would never have thought to examine a map in moon light, it would be a strange thing to do, you would not see everything clearly, there just is not enough light in the night.

"Come, we will speak to the Company."

I faltered, "No, thank you," I refused politely, taking a step backward. "They do not want me with them and I am perfectly happy heading home now."

The wizard tittered, "Are you really? The girl I thought I knew would never have said that. When I met you, you were eager for adventure or has that changed?"

"I – no, it's just –"

He raised a hand to silence me. "You joined to prove yourself, you have already done that. Thorin will see it in time, he is stubborn and even more so when it comes to admitting that he is wrong."

I sighed, "You will not let me leave, will you?"

"I will not force you into anything you do not wish to do, but I can think of many reasons why this quest will be good for you." He replied. "I do not think you want to go home just yet, am I correct?"

He was, so I nodded. Nothing excited me more than the thought of facing a dragon. As terrifying as it was, an overly confident and hopeful part of me chanted that we could do it and that it would be worth it. I still had my pride though, and that would be my worst feature.

"I will not go unless Thorin asks," I promised. "Last time it was me that begged to come along, I will not do that a second time." I would not; I had been insulted and scorned and I would be twice as cold to the leader as he had been to me. I always treated people the best I could, but there were some that you cannot be pleasant to for all the gold in the Lonely Mountain.

Gandalf's glare made it apparent that he did not approve of my attitude, but at that moment in time, it did not bother me on bit. I had had enough on my mind.

"You have been thinking of your mother more so recently." Gandalf seemed to know everything spoken and not.

"And my father," I admitted. "I wonder – I wonder if he knows about me, if he cares? If he could see me now would he be proud of me or would he think I was a fool to run with Dwarves?" I sighed. "I hope my mother would be proud, after all, if it were not for her I would never have left the Shire."

Gandalf nodded knowingly, "I have a feeling she would be, if I knew her as well as I thought I did." He chuckled softly. "As for your father, I cannot tell you whether he has knowledge of your existence, for I do not know his name. I think anyone would be proud to have you as a daughter in any case; whomever your father may be, he could not wish for a worthier child."

I grinned, a small part of me suspected that he was only saying these words to make me feel better, but it worked. I felt more confident in my actions, like I was supposed to do as Gandalf had insisted, almost like it was my destiny to go with these Dwarves to the Lonely Mountain, no matter how unwanted I felt within the Company.

We slowly walked back to the lodgings; Gandalf walking in proudly, map in hand and me sheepishly shuffling along behind him. I would rather be anywhere other than here, even if the wizard were here, there would be no shielding me from Thorin's wrath. Despite my attempts to hide behind Gandalf, I could feel the intense collective gaze of the Dwarves, although I dared not peek from my shelter to discover what emotions were displayed on said faces. I could guess that many would be angry and disgusted at the way in which I had spoken to their leader – their king. Though they were all friendly and kind toward me, their loyalties would no doubt lie with Thorin.

"So the girl will run to the wizard when scorned, eh?" Thorin mocked, "How terribly brave." He snorted, "I suppose she regrets her words of disrespect?"

"She?" I spat incredulously, "She has a name!"

Gandalf threw me a look that clearly meant I was to keep shtum.

"Silence, you fool." Gandalf scolded, a scowl in place to rival even Thorin's. "This young lady has just figured out that which both you and I could not. Veyra has found the key to reading the map, I suggest that you are more appreciative in the future, your very lives may depend upon it." The wizard confided.

Did he really feel the pressing need to do this before the whole Company? It seemed too overdramatic and a little embarrassing, though the glower I received from Thorin when I poked my head out from behind the old man gave me a small thrill of superiority; I had triumphed where he had failed, and he absolutely could not stand it.

"What gave you the right to display my map to a child outside of my Company?" Thorin raged, utterly seething, throwing his arms to the heavens in outrage.

The wizard merely sighed, "You asked for my assistance and advice and I have given it freely," The wizard reminded the Dwarf, "And I would advise you once more: This woman is more valuable to your mission than even she can know, I implore you to reconsider your release of Veyra from her contract."

I could see Thorin was trying to think up a decent excuse to forbid me to join them – and failing. "Fine, I will allow her to accompany us for so long as she is useful." He huffed.

"So," Oin interrupted, reminding the three of us that there were twelve other Dwarves and a concerned looking Hobbit in the room, "How are we to read it, Miss?"

I was shocked that it was me whom he had asked, surely they would have trusted Gandalf's word more than my own. I paused a moment, making sure he was definitely talking to me, though there were none amongst them who would ever allow themselves to be addressed as 'Miss'.

"They're Moon Runes," I explained, "They must be." I was unsure whether or not to elaborate further, but figured it would be impertinent given that it was Dwarfish work and they were likely to find me lecturing them of their own ways a little patronising.

Most of the Dwarves gave appreciative nods, whilst Thorin appeared furious that he had not thought of it himself. Clearly he thought as I did in that maps were useless when read in the dark – though I would never admit any similarity between the two of us; that would be beyond embarrassing. On both parts. Nonetheless, the Dwarves seemed impressed with my revelation.

The group delved into conversation about when and where would be the best place to read the runes and I tuned it out, it meant nothing to me anyway as they were excitedly slipping into Khuzdul every now and then. Once more I placed my bag upon my bed, it was mid-afternoon and I had not eaten since breakfast; my Hobbit instincts were kicking in and my stomach gave a small gurgle.

"Always hungry aren't you?" Came Fili's mocking murmur by my side.

I pushed his arm gently, "I am part Hobbit you know! It's almost like you people have never even heard of second breakfast!" I laughed, pretending to be scandalised.

Kili appeared by his brother's side, as I knew he would. "You have two breakfasts?!" He piped in.

I bobbed my head, "Of course! And elevenses, lunch, afternoon tea, dinner and supper too."

The two Dwarves smiled bemusedly, it was as though they had never thought a female could eat so much – I could, and snacks too.

"I want to be a Hobbit!" Kili complained with a sullen frown.

I laughed, "Well, we are far superior," I joked.

"Perhaps," He replied with a wicked grin, "but at least us Dwarves don't have to reach up to do this," The youngest Dwarf ruffled my hair. Not in a cute way. I hated my hair being messed up, especially when I had only just removed the many weeks' worth of tangles that had littered it before.

"Not fair!" I pouted, shoving him less gently than I had Fili.

To his credit, Kili did allow himself to stumble backward a ways; though I do doubt my pathetic strength could move him if he did not wish so, even if I tried as hard as I were able. Fili laughed, which earned him another swift swat, though it was slightly marred by my own mirth trickling from my lips.

"I'm glad you're still coming with us, Vey." Kili muttered when the laughter had subsided.

"Only because it means I will pick on her instead of you." Fili chipped in, "But it is good to know you will be here all the same." He told me genuinely.

I blushed, "I'm glad too," I did not especially want them to catch my cheeks reddening, but there was no way to stop nor hide it; I would just have to hope they did not read anything into it. "Even if it means that I have to put up with you." I hastened to add in a joking manner.

Kili snickered, "A high honour indeed," The sarcasm flowed easily from his lips.

"Gentlemen," Gandalf called, "and Veyra," He put in remembering my presence, "Thorin has agreed, reluctantly, to visit Lord Elrond this eve to study our map in the hopes of enlightenment. We shall leave after dinner." He announced.

"Oh no, we'll miss supper!" I stage whispered in mock horror to the two brothers, whom went to great effort to hide their guffawing with yawns and bouts of coughing. Some of the other Dwarves gave the three of us funny glances, but asked of nothing.

A rather concerned and obstinate looking Bilbo appeared as though from nowhere. "Veyra, a word if you please." He implored, pulling lightly upon my arm.

"As you wish," I answered, giving a very confused and slightly terrified plea to the brothers using only my eyes, which were now wider than I have ever remembered them being.

The Hobbit led me away rather briskly for someone so much the shorter, though he had a surprising strength beneath his slight frame. He ventured outside to a small stream, not unlike the one I had found Gandalf by earlier, it was even framed by similar trees and bushes.

When finally he stopped, he turned to face me expectantly but did not say a thing for a very long time. It was terribly unnerving to have my cousin staring so intently at me, he usually saved such a glare of mistrust for foreign foods, like that cheese he had once been sent from Bree which he outright refused to eat on the basis of him not trusting them to make cheese fit for Hobbit consumption.

I heaved an impatient sigh, "Pray, whatever is the matter, dear Bilbo?" It was entirely unlike him to be quite so silent.

"Are you ever going to tell me what in the Shire is going on between the two of you?" He blustered, exasperated at my reluctance to admit whatever I was supposed to admit to him.

"I do not know what you are speaking of." I told him, though I had a few ideas: one alluded to my conflict with Thorin, although my problem with him seemed fairly self-explanatory to me, he was horrible to me; the other possibility was far more likely and pertained to a certain younger Dwarf, Bilbo knew me better than I did.

"Hmm!" He huffed. "You cannot pretend forever, dear cousin. We have all seen the way you two look upon each other." He informed me, startling me with the revelation that others had seen it too. "You might as well tell me your feelings yourself so I can confirm I am correct."

"It matters not," I insisted, hedging the order. I was not yet sure myself just what I felt for the Dwarf and far more uncertain if the Dwarf felt a thing at all for me, I was not about to admit anything before I know the full situation.

The Hobbit's stare faltered, "Why does it not matter, little one?"

I resolved that the only way to explain was to give a part of an admission. Bilbo would not tell anyone, surely, he was my cousin after all and we were practically like brother and sister. "Even if I did… care for him in any way (which I'm not saying I do), he is a prince. Would it not be, I don't know, inappropriate if anything were to happen? I'm not saying it will, but…" I sat down on a log beside the stream. "He deserves fellow royalty not some Half-breed."

Bilbo made a sound of disgust, "Don't you ever let me hear you say anything of that sort again! You are far better than that." He assured, infinitely worried that any cousin of his would have such thoughts about themselves. "You are plenty good enough for any prince, Dwarf, Elf or Hobbit. You've achieved more than enough to impress any man." He smiled.

I could not help bit return with a small smile, this little Hobbit always knew how to cheer me up. "Thank you," Was all I could say to him, but he gave a knowing nod of understanding.

"Well," He burst brusquely, changing the subject, "I suppose we ought to make for dinner before those Dwarves eat everything in the kitchens."

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><p><strong>Thanks to anyone still reading this, please review. I need any input or criticism.<strong>

**This chapters song was If You Could See Me Now by The Script and last chapters was My Paradise by All Time Low.**


	6. A Prophecy

**As ever, none of this has been spell-checked. **

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><p>The Dwarves had indeed very nearly eaten all the food offered to us, luckily Gandalf had kindly thought to save some back for Bilbo and myself. It was not half bad either, he had definitely accounted for two Hobbitish appetites. There was, however, a distinct lack of meat of any kind which disappointed my cousin far more than he would have liked to voice. Nonetheless, we ate and ate quickly for we were the only ones holding the others up for their meeting. I could not join their hurry, surely whatever had been written would still be there later into the night. Though none of the Dwarves were particularly happy about spending a large portion of their night amongst Elves and yet they were all undeniably anxious not to be late. Perhaps they were eager to get the whole ordeal over and done with, or perhaps they were secretly excited to learn from these creatures. The first was the more likely scenario.<p>

"Welcome," Greeted Lord Elrond in his solar, the circular room was framed by tall columns covered with vines and soft coloured flowers and a long balcony that overlooked the now sleeping valley in all its beauty. A long, heavy oaken table ornamented with silver candles, whose wax dripped down languidly into the golden bowls each one sat in, dominated the clean white stone of the room, demanding attention. The Elf gestured for us all to sit in the chairs provided around the table and we did, albeit some of us (Thorin mainly) a little reluctantly.

"The map, if I may," Elrond requested of the Dwarf leader, a hand extended to him expectantly.

Thorin bristled, "Why should I present my property to you? Cannot you instruct me on how to read it?" He clutched the map tightly, as I knew he would. It would take the very Jaws of Life to take it from him when he did not wish to relinquish it.

Elrond's gentle smile became infinitesimally strained, he held his composure far better than I would have done.

"Give him the map," Instructed Gandalf sternly.

Thorin grumbled a great long string of curses under his breath that I presumed were in Khuzdul, not that I could really make them out. Nevertheless, he did hand over the map to Lord Elrond, even if it was with a grumpy scowl. "As it pleases you," He grunted.

The Elf plucked it from the Dwarf's outstretched palm, "Many thanks," He carefully unfolded the map, smoothing out the creases with soft sweeping motions. "You mentioned these were moon letters?" He questioned, to a curt nod of assent from Thorin. "Then it is best that we read them outside in the light of the moon." He strode out on to the balcony, a wave of his hand informed us that we should follow.

All eyes fell upon the map and, much as I tried to hide it outwardly, I could not help my eyes staring intently at the left hand side where I had spied the markings. I did not exactly know what to expect, having never seen the runes before, except in the Old Took's drawings; which were of little help.

As soon as the moonlight hit the parchment, the most spectacular thing happened: nothing. The Dwarves breathed a collective sigh of disappointment, evidently they were far more excited about these hidden runes than they had previously shown. Nori even began to leave the balcony, muttering that he was going to find himself some more food. Before he did reach the inside, though, something actually did happen. Spindles of thin molten sliver threaded themselves together, weaving and curving into straight lines and sharp corners. They spread and thickened into the shapes I had learned this morning to be the Dwarven runes of Khuzdul. The letters reflected a shining moonlight onto the faces of the Dwarves, wizard and Elf-lord, enveloping them (and I suppose me too) in a bright white cloak against the now very stark darkness that filled the balcony, dulling the valley below in a blackening blanket of night.

"Lucky for us, these runes were written on a night with the exact moon and season as the one tonight, else we would not be reading them," Elrond commented in a thoughtful tone, his eyes rolling over the silvered letters lazily over and over again.

Even though I could not read the runes, I was just as transfixed as the rest of them; the letters were so beautiful and it must be a marvellously difficult task to create them, for they indeed looked like whoever had made this map had used the very moonlight itself as ink for these words. For the longest time it did not even occur to me to contemplate what the runes actually alluded to, but eventually the moment called and I was forced to consider being the uneducated one of our group and ask what the words read.

"What exactly does it say?" I heard Bilbo venture as I had opened my mouth, I had almost forgotten my cousin was here at all, which was terribly rude of me scolded a small part of my mind. He did look awfully confused with the whole situation; eyebrows knitted together and his mouth in the worried frown he sometimes wore when he felt as though he were missing out on something.

Elrond looked to the Dwarves to explain, but none did; they were too distracted, I doubt any had even heard Bilbo's request. "They read: 'Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the key-hole.'" The Elf-lord elucidated with a small smile to the Hobbit. Thorin clearly disapproved of an Elf filling the Hobbit in, but he could have done so himself. I could see his Dwarven brain ticking over, he seemed to be hoping that the Elf did not ask any questions of his own.

This was helpful in that it shed some insight into what the Dwarves could already see, but I was still at a loss as to what it would mean to someone, anyone in the know. It just did not make sense! First of all: a Thrush has no hands and so cannot knock properly, it can peck with its beak though, is that what it meant? Secondly, which stone do we stand by? There are sure to be at least a few grey stones on every mountain. I doubt I will be too useful in finding this 'key-hole'.

"The key!" Balin beamed excitedly, the other Dwarves nodding in agreement. Of course it would refer to whatever Thorin's key would open, that much was obvious even to me and I knew virtually nothing.

Thorin hushed him, granting him a warning nudge to the ribs to remind him not to give anymore away. The Dwarven leader was clearly still not willing to share any scrap of his plans with the Elf, though Elrond's knowing eye landed right upon Thorin. His face, for the first time since I had known him, held the slightest hint of contempt. "So the rumours are proven true," He calmly voiced, "The King Under the Mountain seeks to reclaim his throne?" The cold way he used Thorin's title expressed disapproval beyond words, this journey was not going to have the Elrond's blessing.

Thorin glared at the Elf-Lord in a stony silence, which seemed only to confirm Lord Elrond's suspicions. "I must advise against this, I cannot allow you to continue, for the good of the realm." He announced. His voice still and clam, with a sharp edge to his words.

How could it be a bad thing for the realm if the Dwarves were to get back their home? I certainly did not know, and by the looks of the expressions on the faces of the others; they did not either. It was their home after all, surely they had a right to take it back whenever they so fancied. The rest of Middle-Earth would not be affected so badly as Elrond was suggesting, it just could not; there was no reason for it.

Thorin seemed positively outraged, and for once I could see his side of things; he had provided a life for is people in the Blue Mountains (or so Kili had told me) and now that they are safe, he wants to take back the home that was coveted from his people – I do not blame him for wanting to give his people their home back and neither should Elrond. I would have voiced this opinion had I not received warning glances from both Gandalf and Thorin himself that seemed to say 'keep quiet', it was a wonder how the two of them had even noticed I was still present let alone that they had both managed to guess my thought pattern, especially the Dwarf who seemed as though he would take ill should he ever agree with me on anything. Having said that, whilst Gandalf's warning was one forged with kindness and protective instincts, Thorin's seemed to project that he thought I would blabber on and give away more of their plans – though I barely knew any plans at all!

Thorin snatched away his map he had been itching to take away ever since he had pressed it into the Elf's hands, proudly turning his back on the Elf. The Dwarf gave a guttural grunt in his mother tongue and the others began to follow him out in silence, Kili taking me by the arm when I took a moment too long to move after the apparent order, Fili did the same with Bilbo. I suppose the Hobbit must have felt horribly guilty in having not said farewell to their host, his inability to follow his polite instincts must have been almost painful; I knew how much the Hobbit hated leaving with no parting words. There was nothing he could do about it in this circumstance though, there was obviously no way Thorin was going to allow any contact with any Elves from now on in. I did not imagine I would see an Elf again until our adventure was at an end. I only regretted that I had not heard them singing whilst I had been here, it would have been nice.

Back at the lodgings, as soon as the doors closed behind us, there was an explosion of voices from all the Dwarves. They were all clamouring to have their ideas and opinions heard before everyone else's, as though we only had a few brief moments in which we could reflect upon the meeting's happenings. Gandalf remained in quiet contemplation, as though he could not hear the din of the rowdy group. Bilbo kept muttering to himself, but I could never quite make out his words over the noise of the others. It was bound to be some comment on the rudeness of the Dwarves or his confusion of the situation.

"SILENCE!" Barked Thorin, and all sound fell at his order, even the breeze outside the cabin seemed to obey his word. "We have much to discuss, but it is better we only speak one at a time." There was a muttering of assent from the Dwarves. "The map alluded to the door,"

"But the front door is guarded by the worm!" Oin complained.

Thorin rolled his eyes, "There is a hidden door, you fool!" He showed them the map once more, "It is on this side of the mountain; my Grandfather forged it in case of an emergency." He explained.

"So that is how some were able to escape the flames," Bofur murmured to no one in particular. It must have been how Thorin and his family were able to escape the Dragon once the mountain had been breached all those years ago.

Thorin nodded, "We will need to find and open it before night fall on Durin's Day."

"That is very soon." Frowned Fili.

The Dwarves were quiet, evidently it was too soon for their liking. "How long do we have?" It was my first piece of real input or interest I had actually shown in their plans and it obviously surprised some of the Dwarves to find that I was not just going to tag along without contributing as I had done up to now.

"That's the problem," Kili answered, his eyebrows drawn together over his darkening eyes and his face tight, "No one knows when that will be exactly."

"It will be before the winter's dawning, that much we know." Balin contributed, "It has been many years since anyone has been able to calculate to the very day, but we can be sure, lassie, it will fall before the last day of autumn."

That was not exactly helpful. If no one knew when the day fell, how could we know if we were there in time or not? It was almost autumn now, we really would need to hurry up about it if we were serious about finding this door or else we would be forced to try another way in. From what they were saying, it sounded like the only other door happened to be the front gate and that was extremely dangerous; what with it being Smaug's main guarding post. This hidden door was our only fully plausible option, and it was the only one I could actually see Thorin taking; surely, he would not risk his friends taking on the Dragon from the main entrance?

Another question tugged at the back of my mind. "And what is the meaning of Durin's Day? Is it a celebration amongst Dwarves?" I knew I probably sounded incredibly ignorant, but I had to learn about this at some point. From not on, I refused to follow this Company blindly; I would fully know what I was getting into and why, even if it probably annoyed the socks off of Thorin. In fact, _especially_ if it annoyed the socks off of Thorin.

"Durin's Day is the mark of the Dwarven New Year. Durin the Deathless was created by Aulë in the First Age and he was the First One, the first Dwarf," Thorin explained, he actually appeared to be pleased that I was finally taking an interest, though he certainly was not about to be friends with me just yet.

"So," I thought aloud, remembering something Bofur had once said, "You are his direct descendant?"

"I am of the Line of Durin, yes." He bowed his head as though I should be honoured to be in his presence, his heritage was pure from start to end. Somehow that was not impressive to me; he protruded an air of superiority in being pure of blood, yet I knew as well as anyone that you could be just as noble without the hassle of pedigree.

Despite my thoughts, I bobbed my head in understanding. At least now I should be up to speed with the others – or so I had hoped. Thorin showed no sign of my having missed a question as he lapsed back into his dilemma. "It would seem that we have little enough time to dally in this place," He looked more relieved saying so than I would bet he was willing to admit to, "We will leave at first light, so I advise you all to pack your things before you lay down to sleep this night." Thorin had said it was advice and yet it felt more like an order than anything else, it did not matter; everyone set about doing as he had 'suggested' I any case.

To my lucky advantage, I had the entirety of my things already packed away thanks to the events earlier in the day. All I needed to do before climbing into bed was unclasp my cloak. I folded it and lay it over my bag. Kili, however, had not kept a single item in his bag and was hurriedly trying to find all of his belongings. I had to suppress a giggle when he suddenly dove underneath his bed in the hopes of retrieving an escaped sock that had almost found its liberation. Fili, on the other hand, did not.

He let out a raucous blast of mirth at his brother's expense. Much to Kili's annoyance; he muttered a Dwarvish curse to his brother, who only laughed harder at Kili as he tried to scramble out from the underside of the bed too quickly and hit his head on the solid wooden bottom. This was too much for my already waning resolve; I laughed, freely and unashamedly.

I covered my mouth to stifle the sound and hoped the youngest Dwarf would not be quite as angry with me in my attempts to conceal my laughter, as he had been at Fili. He threw me a dirty look, but at least I did not receive the same cursing that Fili had. Although I had a strong feeling that I only got away without him using such language in my direction was because I am a female, or perhaps it was purely because of the fact that any Dwarvish curse would be wasted on me for I would not understand it in any case.

"You've done it now." Fili informed me with a wink and a nudge. "He will probably sulk awhile now."

I accidentally let out a small squeak of a giggle, causing Kili to give me an accusatory glare of betrayal. I reached over and ruffled his hair (he was still knelt on the floor so I could actually reach his head) to which he huffed and batted my arm away moodily and turned his back on us.

"Don't be like that, Kili," I begged, placing a hand on his shoulder, to which he shrugged and dislodged the gesture. "We didn't mean to laugh, I promise."

"I did," Fili argued, to which I gave him a firm punch of his arm, "I mean, of course we did not mean it, brother."

Kili still did not turn to face us. "Fine, sulk all you should like, but it was funny and you would have laughed if it were one of us." I reasoned.

The youngest Dwarf merely finished stuffing his things into his bag and climbed into bed without a word to anyone else. It was rather strange to see the youngest heir of Durin behaving quite so stroppy, it did not suit his usually charming, bubbly persona that I had become so familiar with. Fili left him to it, choosing to go to his bed at the other end of the room and pack away his remaining belongings instead of cajoling his brother out of his grump.

"Come on, Kee," I pleaded.

Kili's head rose slightly. "What did you just call me?" He questioned. I was not sure whether he was offended or had just not been expecting the nickname, in all honesty even I had not expected it.

"Sorry," I hurried out, I hoped I really had not offended him; that would make things all the worse. "I didn't think, it just came out. Sorry." I apologised again.

This time Kili rolled over, his face had softened a great deal, "No," He smiled, "Don't be. I just have never had a nickname before, what with my name already being so short."

"Oh," Was all I could say, everyone I had ever known had had a nickname of some sort, though perhaps Dwarves were different, maybe they did not have them so often as Hobbits; after all, the Old Took had been called as such for so long that even he forgot his right name was Gerontius sometimes.

"I like it," Kili assured me with a warm grin, his expression settling into one I recognised as Kili's. It was much better to see him cheerful than moody.

"Good," I returned the smile to my Kee – I mean Kili. At some point I really must decide what, if anything, I actually felt for this Dwarf. Though it probably would not matter the slightest anyway, he could not possibly see me as anything other than a mere member of the Company. Besides, once this quest was over, I would have to return to the Shire; my rose bushes were probably getting out of control by now.

I climbed into my own bed, wrapping the clanked closely around me even though it was not cold. I faced the young Dwarf, whom was smirking a me in a way which sent waves of butterflies through me, I had never experienced this beforehand and it was both incredibly uncomfortable and thrilling at the same time, I was not quite sure that I wanted the feeling to go away entirely. Sleep did not take long to overcome me and I did not fight it; the last thing I saw as my eyes drifted shut was Kili still smiling at me from the bed next to mine.

The next morning was very hurried. The sun had yet to make an appearance and Balin was already doing the rounds of waking everyone. We did not have time to change from the clothes we had slept in, but that did not matter to me so much as it had at our journey's outset, I was used to wearing the same thing for days at a time now, though I noticed I still changed more regularly than the Dwarves. There was only Bilbo whom complained about tiny things such as that now. Gandalf had smuggled us enough food supplies and water skins to last us a fair few weeks if we were a=careful. At this stage they decided it safer that Bombur did not carry any food with him, for Bifur had caught him trying to snack on a large wheel of cheese before we had even set off. Sadly, Gandalf had not managed to filch any meat, which disheartened more than a few of us; if I had known the day before that I would not be getting bacon for a good while, I would have eaten a fair share more of it.

Our meagre breakfast that morning consisted of nought but Elven bread cakes, which were dry and flat and did not taste of anything much at all. The Dwarves were rather vocal in their distaste for the foreign food, but Bilbo enthused that they were quite satisfactory for 'foreign muck', at any rate. I imagine Bilbo would have much preferred one of his home-cooked dinners, or even one of mine and I am no great chef. The Elf-food was not too bad, but I would have given my right leg for a handful of crispy golden chips.

We left the valley by a different exit to the one by which we had entered; a magnificent marble archway, carved with the Elven script of words I could never imagine knowing, opening out into a thick band of towering pine trees that disappeared into grassy lands that stretched all the way to the base of the Misty Mountains. This did not disappoint the Dwarves though, as we had emerged much closer to the Misty Mountains than we were before. They seemed oddly ominous to me now; whereas they had been a sign of hope beforehand, now they were a glaring reminder of the mountain we were headed for and the dangerous dragon that lay in there, waiting for us to make our move. I could not tell you how much the very thought terrified me.

Gandalf had said himself that he could not ensure my safety and yet a tiny part of me remembered that Kili had once promised that he would if Gandalf would not. I did not quite know how to feel about that; it was probably just empty words, meant to encourage a young girl he had only just met, to make me feel like I would be safe if I went with them because they needed me to go, because they thought I would be useful.

Setting out on foot was a little more tiresome than riding had been, though the lack of saddle sores was greatly appreciated by all. The hills were green and rolling as we made our way, there was the occasional root you had to remember to dodge in time, else you would fall flat on your face into the mud. An occurrence that happened once or twice amongst the Company, poor Bombur haven fallen three times now.

I had only fallen once. The tree root had twisted up my ankle, snaring it unescapably tight and then shrivelling away when I had hit the ground. Fili and Kili had found that extremely amusing. At least Kili did until he tripped over the same sneaky root mid-chuckle. Something that made Fili guffaw even further. Not to worry, when he offered his hand to help me up I 'accidentally' staggered, pulling him to the ground to join us. He landed in a particularly large pile of dirt and the three of us were in stitches for leagues afterwards.

The Misty Mountains grew taller and taller; and the winds grew colder and colder. I drew my cloak tighter around me to keep out the chill and put the sheep-skin lined leather gloves I had found at the bottom of my bag on, luckily I had thick socks on beneath my boots else they would be freezing. The three peaks were all drowned in snow that came most of the way down the mountains, it was sure to be a slippery way over them; which would ensure a great deal of falling over for me, I could barely stop myself from tripping up when the ground was dry, sheer ice would be a whole other ordeal entirely.

Orc calls could be heard every now and then, but they came from further and further away each time they sounded; nonetheless, Thorin still ensured that everyone stayed in a tightly packed cluster as we neared the base of the first mountain. Kili and Fili forced me into the middle, obviously cautious for my safety which was a little annoying – it felt as though they thought me incapable of defending myself. I did not mind so much, however, once I realised it was far warmer here in the middle of the pack than it had been on the edge, though I did miss the brothers joking as we walked.

Our pace had slowed in traveling as such, which only went to irritate the already frustrated Thorin. Evidently, he wished to be over the mountains as soon as possible. Gandalf too, frowned more often than not; I could only think that the journey over the mountains gave him some troubles. If they were worried about taking on this portion of the quest, then perhaps I ought to be cautious too. Although, I believe Thorin's really concern was that we would not reach the Lonely Mountain in time; whereas Gandalf was sure to fear for our safety first and then the success of the mission.

The base of the mountain was a steep incline of sharp grey rocks, which I could still feel through the thick sole of my boots, I had no idea how in the world poor Bilbo was not limping and yelling at every step. I know his Hobbit feet and they were thick soled so as he would not have normally needed shoes, but honestly, these stones and pebbles were razor sharp. Despite this, he never made a sound nor a grumble to imply he was suffering, nor did his feet show any sign of damage that I was able to see.

The mountain pass took us up slowly and steadily, and so the ascent of the first misty mountain began.

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><p><strong>Reviews are welcome. <strong>

**The song is A Prophecy - Asking Alexandria **


	7. Mountains

If I had learned anything about anything on this journey thus far, it was this: climbing mountains is tiring and boring. With every step the path became steeper, and yet we were only moving gradually higher – surely we must be nearing the summit now? Alas, no, we were barely half way up the first mountain, still following that infernal path that seemingly lead to nowhere. We had not even reached the snows of the higher mountain yet and it was almost nightfall on the second day. Mountains were definitely not something I would explore again once this is over, I think I'll stick to visiting Elven villages or having adventures in the woods, at least then there were things to look at and to do. Here all we could do is keep moving and stare out at the same grey peaks as we had done since we set to at the mountain's base.

That was not the worst of it. It was incredibly cold, bitterly so, and to top it off; it was raining harder than I had ever felt it in my entire life. Great rivulets of water drowned half our path and though they were no deeper than the sole of my boot, they made that part of the walkway slippery beyond belief and thus we were forced to walk single file along the walls of the mountain. I was made to struggle along a little nearer the rear as the mountain twisted around to the left. If I did not know better, I would have thought Thorin ordered me back for my safety.

"So you honour us with your presence again?" Kili muttered, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

"You have to interact with a peasant at some point," I shrugged.

Kili's grin faltered, "You are no peasant, Vey."

"Who said I was the peasant?" I teased lightly.

I laughed at his baffled and a little bit offended expression, I do not think he had a response to that.

"I was joking, don't take everything I say seriously." I hastened to note, not wanting the Dwarf to be upset with me again.

"Oh," He said simply, I think he was slightly embarrassed, or at the very least still confused.

Fili clapped him on the shoulder a wicked twist of a smile at his mouth, "He cannot help it, he always takes a woman seriously when he-"

I never heard the rest of what the blonde brother had to say tough as it was suddenly no longer just raining, but there was thunder too, and that drowned out whatever the Dwarf's words were. Oddly enough there could be seen no lightening, maybe the storm was a long way off?

Sadly, I was wrong. There were more crashes of thunder but still no lightening. Boom after boom, they followed one another without pause. Instinctively I hugged my back to the way as though the lightening would appear and strike me down. I had always hated storms since we so rarely have them in the Shire, but when they did hit they would take out so much of our farmland that an entire village would have to pitch in and help repair everything. I just hated the way the wind would rattle the windows as though it wanted to come in and sweep me away.

I think, had it been anyone else staying so tight to the wall and being so obviously frightened, the brothers would have laughed at them; something in my eyes must have told them that was a bad idea as they did no such thing. Kili even placed a reassuring hand upon my arm and urged me forward and Fili moved in front of me so that he could see if anything would happen and shield me from it. A small part of me knew I should thank them, but my breathing was so erratic that all I could do was keep my feet moving in time with theirs.

"We should find somewhere to make camp," Gandalf advised over the roaring winds.

The crashing continued and it was then that we saw the storm for all that it was.

"This is no thunder storm, it's a thunder battle!" Thorin announced.

He was right, now we could all see. Humongous stone men emerging from the mountain opposite us, I had thought them to be parts of the mountains. My mistake. They were taller than the mountains themselves and at least half as broad. That is not what worried me though, what worried me was the fact that they were aiming large chunks of mountain at one another. So that is what all the noise was, it was no storm at all, not really.

"The legends are true!" Bofur gasped, astounded. "Giants! Stone giants!"

That is what they must be. Not that I had ever thought such a thigh could really have existed, back home they were a thing of fancy tales and fairy stories, then again; so had dragons. And these giants were certainly very real. Each piece of mountain they threw at one another either collided with the target, making them stagger, or it went crashing into the mountains. Each blow above us sent cascades of rocky debris raining down on us. I was very glad to be against the wall already, though I was somewhat surprised when both Fili and Kili used their bodies to shield me from any shards and stones that may head in my direction. Touched by the gesture as I was, I could not concentrate on what it might mean. The next rock launched hit only a few feet from the back of our line, crumbling away a large area of our path.

"We must find shelter!" Gandalf urged, even he struggling to be heard over the chaos and leaning heavily upon his staff.

I could not agree more, however, I could see nowhere possible for us to do so. And then things got worse. Much worse. A crack appeared underneath my feet, opening wider and wider. We were certainly in the wrong place, I realised; we were perched upon the knees of another giant. I stepped to my right, away from the gap and grabbed Kili's arm and tried desperately to pull him onto the side where the rest of us were, but an oncoming boulder forced me to let go, shattering my arm. Fili hauled me back from the edge I was teetering upon.

"Kili!" I screamed, hoping I would hear him, hoping that he would be okay. I could see nothing of him at all. "Kili!" I wailed again when no answer came. I could not move. Kili was gone, he could not be gone. A fear filled my very soul, none of us would survive without him. I would not survive without him. My arm hung limply, I could not move it without gasping in excruciating pain, but it was not nearly as damaging as the thought of life without Kili.

Fili forced me against the side of the giant as it began walking, the shuddering motion would have been enough to dislodge me had the blonde brother not done so. I was still calling Kili's name, though now it had lost all its ferocity, the shouts becoming sobs of decreasing strength. Fili had not joined my voice, but I could see him craning his neck in an attempt to catch sight of the missing brother.

There was a blow to our giant's chest and it was sent staggering back into the mountain, it broke a shard from the peak and sent it flying like a stone spear into the heart of the attacker. The offending giant took a heavy fall and struggled to get up for a long while afterward.

"Vey! Fili!" A cry echoed. Kili. He was alive.

I pushed Fili back an inch or two and strained to scan the opposite knee of our giant. There he was, small and distant, but perfectly okay. I had not noticed the tears I had been leaking before I had spotted him, now they were replaced by a relieved grin. He was okay. I could not even imagine what I would have done after this had he not been, I am not quite sure how I would cope without seeing his playful grin every day.

"Kili!" Fili shouted back in relief, I had tried to answer him myself, but a stubborn lump lodged in my throat refused to let any sound past.

The giant took a shaky step with the Kili laden leg, the Dwarf clung onto the stone behind him, too sharp a jerk could dislodge him easily. At the very same moment one of the other rock-made giants aimed a colossal boulder that ripped that very limb from our giant. The knee came crashing into ours, sending the youngest Dwarf sailing into our midst and landing heavily on top of Oin and Bifur as our leg fell back to the path. The Dwarf scrambled off of his companions, patting a very frightened Bilbo on the back. Another boulder struck right above us, sending a shower of sharp pebbles raining over our heads in a deluge as harsh as the real rain.

"Back to the mountain," Gandalf ordered. "Hurry!"

We did as told, Fili hauling his brother to his feet and pushing me along in front of them. Thorin bid us to huddle under a sharp outcrop of rock. It did not seem very safe to me, though I suppose it was better than being stuck back on the giant's knees. Once more I was buffeted away from the brothers, something that I definitely did not want. I was desperate just to be near Kili again and yet I had not even had the chance to look at him properly after he had been thrown back to the Company. I wanted to shout to him, to tell him I was glad he was okay, more than glad really; I was the happiest I had ever been in knowing he was still with us. I could not speak though still, my mouth was completely dry and that pesky lump was only getting bigger by the minute. The Dwarves and Gandalf began discussing whether or not it would be wisest to get off the mountains now and go around or to find somewhere in which we could stay the night. I would much rather wait until these stone creatures had gone to sleep to evacuate, but I know any input I have right now would be dismissed by everyone.

"Fili, Kili." Thorin gathered them. "Look for a cave we can shelter in, be careful to search every corner; goblins are crawling in these parts." The brothers nodded and set out with no argument or complaint.

No. he could not send them away, not when we had only just gotten Kili back. It was not fair. A part of me knew that it was the two youngest sent out to scout because their eyes were still sharp, what with them being able to see far better than the rest, and yet another part of me argued that those were the people we needed to make sure were with us at all times to ensure our safety. Though I knew well that the latter argument was mainly biased by my not wanting to have either of them out of my sight again.

"Where's Bilbo? Where is our little Hobbit?" Asked Bofur out of the blue, wringing out his hat as best he could only to have the rain soak it through the second he replaced it on his head.

I ran my eyes over the bodies around me, unable to spot my cousin amongst them. "Bilbo?" I bellowed testing for a reply.

"Over here," He replied distantly and strained, only – I could not see where 'over here' was.

"There!" Dwalin gaped pointing off to the side.

Oh no. Bilbo was 'there' indeed. Two little hands clutched tightly at the edge, stained white both from the cold air and the exertion of his grip. Quicker than I would have been able, Thorin was over the edge following the Hobbit. He was the last person I would have expected to risk his life for Bilbo; he and the Hobbit shared no great love for one another. For a moment I thought we had lost not only our burglar and my cousin, but our leader too. Luckily, we did not. The Dwarf heaved the Hobbit into the waiting arms of Balin, whom easily hoisted Bilbo up and onto our ledge.

Alas, it was then that Thorin's hand slipped and I thought all hope was lost. I should have known the Company better than that. With a speed to rival Thorin, Ori and Gloin had thrown themselves to the cliff, hurling their arms around their beloved king. Bombur joined to help them bring Thorin back to the safety of our shelter.

"I thought we'd lost our burglar!" Dwalin exclaimed in relief, clapping the Hobbit over the shoulders.

Thorin huffed, "He's been lost ever since he left home. He should never have come. He has no place with us."

Thorin's words were harsh, he had not even been quite so hard on me. What reason did he have to single my cousin out so horribly? Usually he would have saved such a tirade for me. Bilbo appeared visibly hurt by those comments, I knew he would be even more upset than he let on, the little fellow always tried to hide any negative feelings for the good of others. Thorin was way out of line, my cousin had just had a near death experience and this Dwarf was degrading him in front of the entire Company. If it were not for Gandalf subtly placing a hand upon my shoulder I would have had a few choice words with our dear old leader, but the cold warning in Gandalf's grey-blue eyes told me it would only do Bilbo more harm if I were to interrupt. Instead of hurling words at Thorin, I focussed on ways of holding my arm close to me without making it feel like my arm was about to fall off or having it spasm which always resulted in a mass of shooting pains flooding my entire body. My arm was shattered like glass and all in the attempt of keeping Kili with us. It had not done much good at all, Kili was returned to us in the end anyway, my injuries were all for nought. And to top that off, I was the only one of the Company to sustain so much as a bruise, I had concluded that Dwarves were pretty much invincible.

It felt like an eternity passed us whilst the youngest two brothers were out searching, each crash of a boulder brought fresh images of a new injury of death befalling the missing two. They were crushed by rocks; splintered by shards; severed by Orc knives; strung out by goblins. I could not stand it. The throbbing of my arm increased every moment they were gone. Gandalf had concluded that it was broken, but until we could get into some sort of dry space, there was nothing he could do for me.

After what must have been at least half an hour, the two returned, grinning as though they had made the discovery of an Age.

"We have found a cave, no more than half a league down the path." Fili announced proudly.

Kili nodded, "It's vacant, no sign of anything in there."

Thorin bobbed his head in acknowledgement, looking slightly impressed with the two, but not too much; he would not want them feeling as though they had actually done something right. That would be just awful for him. "Lead the way," He instructed.

We were thrust back out into the worst of the rain, by now I was soaked right through to my undergarments, I should maybe have left my cloak in my bag, at least then I would have had something dry to put around me. The walk was not long, the cave was nearer than I would have thought and larger. It would have satisfied the needs of a company far greater than our own.

Thorin gathered us into a circle once we were all safely out of the winds and rain. "We will sleep here, I will permit only a small fire." He announced.

Gandalf frowned, "I would suggest no fire at all."

"I will not have my men freeze." Thorin countered, turning his back on the wizard to let him know that there would be no argument. He began quizzing the brothers on how thoroughly they had searched this cave, they really had not been gone long enough to have inspected every inch of it.

I knew the fire would be a welcome comfort, but I could not deny that Gandalf's advice made sense; if these lands were as filled with Orcs as Thorin said, then surely it would be wiser not to give away our location with a fire especially seeing as the only exit from this cave was also the entrance. But, as always, Thorin knows best and the fire was lit. I could not think about that for long, however, as Kili's warm chocolate eyes had finally found me; his gaze burning through me, consuming me. I did not even notice my arm any more. All I was capable of taking note of was him and those eyes.

He silenced his uncle, something I doubt uncle Thorin had ever experienced before, or so his dumbstruck expression hinted when he gaped openly at his nephew. The leader would certainly not be happy about that later and, as Kili was striding toward me with a purpose I had not seen him possess before, I could tell I would be in trouble with Thorin later and that was before I noticed the King's new disgruntled frown.

"Vey," Kili whispered, half a foot from me, a grin playing at his lips. "Mahal, it is good to see you."

I closed the gap and pulled him into a tight hug, hissing slightly at the pain it caused my arm to do so, but I did not let go; not for a long time. Kili was most definitely confused by the gesture, did Dwarves not hug? Timidly, he wrapped his arms around me before gradually relaxing. I could not say how long we stood like that without saying a word to one another, me breathing in his scent of earth and wool and something else entirely is own. Eventually though, I had to pull away if only to see his face again. He kept one arm around me and I did not mind in the slightest; Kili was alive and he was well, that is all I cared about. Well, that and the fact that my right arm was about to drop off. I grunted as I tried to find a comfortable position in which to hold it away from myself.

"Your arm," Kili gasped, taking it gently into his calloused hands with a surprisingly touch that I had never expected from any Dwarf, "You should have told me you were hurt." He scolded, though not in a way that I would feel as though I were really being told off, in a way that told me he would be internally berating himself for not having noticed sooner or having prevented it in the first place. Silly Dwarf.

"It mattered not," I assured him, it really did matter now however; it hurt more than anything I have ever known.

Gandalf was beside me before I could even ask, I had a feeling he had been waiting for the exchange between the Dwarf and I to finish before he interceded and no matter how much my arm pained me, I was glad he did.

Gandalf sat me down to lean against the cold cave wall, taking my injured arm and stretching it out – I would have cursed from the stabbing, shooting bursts if it had not been for Kili holding my other hand tightly. I was half aware that he had sat down beside me, yet I could not concentrate on him for once, my arm felt as though it were being ripped apart from the inside. How was it even possible for something to hurt this much?

Gandalf prodded my arm, using great care in trying not to hurt me further, but no matter what he did the pain found me regardless. "Your arm is broken here, here and here." He indicated by tapping each break so lightly, he barely touched my skin. "I can help it heal overnight, but it will be painful and I'm afraid our stocks of herbs are all but non-existent,"

I nodded for him to do whatever he needed. One night of pain to save many weeks seemed an easy price to pay, especially since it means the bones would set in their proper place. The wizard stared up his magic, stealing light from the rest of the room with his voice alone. He muttered and chanted strange words and incantations that I would have guessed to be some form of Elvish, for Elves were the only true magical healers of this world. His tones filled the air, dark and mysterious and yet they were lined with hope and wonder at the same time. My arm grew heavier and the bones felt as though they were being sanded down and knitted back together, all the while it felt like molten lava was filling the veins of my arm in an effort to force the bones to set before they were ready.

I do not know exactly when I fell unconscious, it may have been after Gandalf forcibly pushed an offending bone back into place or it may have been when I saw the lump said protruding bone made in my skin. I do know, however, that when I woke, I was surprisingly warm and my arm felt as light as a feather. It must have been the middle of the night as in front of me I could see sleeping Dwarves and Bofur keeping watch. I also noticed a band of warmth across my stomach, a slumbering Kili had slung a protective arm about my waist. The gesture made me blush, silly really that such a thing could make me feel like there were tiny butterflies inside me, untangling all the knots and stresses of this journey. There were two blankets over us and a cloak, Kili must not have worn his in the rain, clever smug Dwarf. I noticed that mine was not around me, nor was my coat; my shirt, trousers and boots remained. I spotted the two missing items by the dying embers of our fire along with the coats and cloaks of many others. Kili must have removed them when I passed out, I do not think Gandalf would have done that, it would seem inappropriate from him. Although, I suppose being undressed, no matter how minorly, by someone I had only known for about three months was not really appropriate either.

He mumbled something incomprehensible in his sleep, wrapping his arm tighter and pulling me that little bit closer. Unconsciously, I found myself snuggling back into his warmth – I could try and pretend I was merely cold, but I would not fool anyone at all, I just wanted to be nearer to him. This was all probably terribly inappropriate for a prince and yet I could not bring myself to care what the others would think of it, nor what they would think of me.

Occasionally he would mutter something else, always in the mysterious Khuzdul, instead of finding it unnerving as some might, the soft delicacy with which he spoke the words and phrases made them into sounds almost as beautiful as Elvish singing, but twice as special coming from Kili. I made a mental not to see if he remembered anything he might have said, it would be interesting to know what was going on in his dreams.

I tried to go back to sleep, but unfortunately I had always been the type of person whereas once I had woken, I could not find sleep again. It was really very frustrating, I wanted so badly to fall back to sleep beside the Dwarf and yet I had to suffer being awake while he could sleep in peace.

Over by Bofur I could hear Bilbo stirring in his bedroll; tossing and turning as though the cave floor were a bed of nails. He, too, was muttering away to himself, though he was clearly awake and I could understand his murmurs. It was not nearly as cute as Kili's calm whispers; these were hushed and hurried thoughts, filled with concerns and unease. He chattered on to himself in a low whisper about home and his garden and his armchair and how much he missed cups of tea. I suppressed a giggle, he had always been one for home comforts and such. My cousin had always been the homely type, he did not even like staying the night with the Tooks all that much and would avoid it wherever possible, even when it meant him walking all the way back to his Hobbit hole in the middle of the night. I supposed it would be nothing much to worry about, Bilbo of all people was bound to miss his home at some point. Having said that, I did become slightly concerned when he got up, bag in hand, and tried to creep past Bofur.

"Wait!" Bofur called, "Just where do you think you're going?" He leapt up, alert as a meerkat and looking just as comical as he did so.

I could not hear Bilbo's reply to that, try as I might. Kili's arm was like a vice and whenever I tried to squirm away he'd pull be back humming a complaint in his slumber.

"But you can't leave!" Bofur was arguing.

Bilbo's voice was stronger this time, and I could hear him, "I am going back to Rivendell." He said in his best manner of finality.

"No. No. No. You can't turn back, now. You're part of the Company. You're one of us." Bofur tried desperately. I wanted to assure my cousin too, but I did not want to risk waking Kili this late in the night.

Bilbo sighed, dragging a hand down his face. **"**I'm not though, am I? Thorin said I should never have come, and he was right. I'm not a Took, I'm a Baggins. I don't know what I was thinking. I should've never ran out the door." Thorin knows nothing! Even I know that. I wanted to scream at Bilbo for thinking like that, I wanted to scream at Thorin even more so for making my cousin think like that.

**"**You're homesick, I understand." Bofur tried to reason with him, physically blocking Bilbo's path now.

**"**No, you don't! You don't understand, none of you do; you're dwarves! You're used to...to this life, to living on the road, never settling in one place, not belonging anywhere!" Bilbo ranted unthinkingly. I winced, my body growing rigid; that was entirely the wrong thing to say to a group of Dwarves on a quest for their homeland. "I'm sorry. I didn't..." He amended.

Bofur waved his apology away. **"**No, you're right. We don't belong anywhere."

From my position I could clearly see Thorin, his eyes wide; he was awake and most definitely listening. Why did he not stop Bilbo? I know my cousin could be a liability sometimes, but he was loyal. If Bilbo leaves right now we will all regret it, every one of us.

The stillness behind me told me that Kili was also silently watching the exchange. He reached my hand and took it into his, I accepted gratefully and gave his a small squeeze of thanks which he returned by wrapping his other arm around me too. My distress must have been obvious to him, either I was giving a lot away via just body language or he knew me too well. It was probably the latter, on our long treks I had often mentioned that Bilbo was my closest family member now and how I had wanted to look after him despite his being so much older than me.

"I wish you all the luck in the world. I really do." Bofur told the Hobbit, patting him on the arm as he let him pass.

"Thank you, really." Bilbo answered, "Please- I know I have no right but – please promise me that you will look after Veyra for me. It would be cruel of me to take her with me, especially now."

Bofur smiled weakly, "The lass is always safe with us, my friend." He chuckled, "I doubt the Great Worm himself could take her from us now."

Great tears were snaking down my face and onto Kili's arm, they were the silent kind, the ones that creep up on you so that you only realise they're there when they reach their full, hot flow.

Bilbo snickered in relief, "I do believe you are right. Good bye, my friend."

Bofur bowed his head, then cocked it to the side, "What's that?" He questioned, indicating the strange blue glow emitted by the tiny sword that Bilbo had pillaged from the Troll hoard.

Bilbo's face fell, "Trolls!" He whisper-shouted.

A great snapping echoed throughout the cave. Thorin's eyes caught mine and then flew to the side, inches from my head, I followed his gaze only to wish I had not. Beside my head the ground was cracking, the sounds still bouncing from wall to wall around us. Evidently Kili had seen it to, he snatched me up from the floor. He made me put my cloak and jacket on, reminding me that I may have need of my weapons.

"Don't get them out just yet," he warned in a growl. My head swirled, not was not the time to remember how attractive his voice was.

He did the same as he had made me. The crack in the ground had run from one wall to the opposite by now and was steadily widening.

"Wake up. Wake up!" Thorin was shouting, heaving each Dwarf to his feet.

A flash of light flared, blinding me momentarily and then it was gone and the world was moving diagonally. No, we were moving diagonally; it soon became impossible to stand in place, my feet were sliding toward the crack. The floor was _tipping_ it was actually moving, fighting to dislodge us and deposit us into whatever awaited.

Where was Gandalf? I could not find him in our crowd, he was gone. The wizard had deserted us in our hour of need. Suddenly all of Thorin's grumbling about wizards being unreliable made sense to me now, I cursed the wizard inwardly. Without him, we were truly done for.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry if I stretched this out longer than necessary, it was kind of boring, but don't worry I have lots in store when it comes to the goblins and Mirkwood. <strong>

**The song is Mountains - Biffy Clyro.**


	8. Magic Dance

The floor sloped down even more sharply than ever and we all were hurled downward into whatever was at the bottom. Turns out that the bottom was a firm stone cavern. I was glad my arm was well enough not to cause too many issues now. The landing was as harsh as I thought it would be, heightened by the fact that Kili landed across my legs. He got up hurriedly, apologising in Khuzdul, and then apologising for apologising in Khuzdul before he remembered that 'sorry' was one of the few words I actually knew in the language. We shared a grin at the memory of him sitting on me and the discovery of my miniscule knowledge of his mother tongue.

There was a hole in the wall at one end of the cavern and I eyed the dark space with a great deal of suspicion. We had all took a bump or two on our way down, but Bombur had taken the most as he hobbled to his feet and stumbled confusedly for a while.

We had no time to collect our wits about us. In an instant there were goblins surrounding us, forcing us to cower into a circle. They were disgusting and they smelled nearly as bad as the Trolls had. Their skin was sallow and sickly; their teeth fanged like a sabre-tooth; the eyes a vicious yellow; and their limbs looked uncomfortably long; they were the single most hideous monsters that I had ever seen. They were not as tall as I had expected, some were even as small as Bilbo, and the tallest would only just have surpassed Gandalf's height.

Kili placed a warning hand over one of mine when I reached for my boot, he shook his head. Was I just supposed to let them rip us to shreds just to make sure they did not take my weapons? Should I not defend myself? Instead of arguing I rolled my eyes, he seemed to understand my inner complaints and shook his head again to dismiss them.

He kept his hand there and clung like a shadow to my back, "Don't let them know you're a girl," He hissed. I could imagine what they would do if they found out I was female, it would not be very pretty and I would definitely do anything I could to avoid it.

It did not matter how tightly we packed ourselves together, the Orcs broke us away one by one; grabbing any arms legs or middles they could lay a hand on. In no time at all, or so it had seemed, Kili was torn from my back and I was shouldered roughly by one of the great brutes. The hideous beast bounded along, sending me bouncing painfully against his back; I would have been shocked that I was not causing him pain too, but having seen the thick hide the creature wore as skin, I was sure I could be felt as no more than a fly repeatedly landing upon it. I, on the other hand, could already feel the bruises gathering upon my paper thin skin; in comparison I felt incredibly fragile.

The Goblin finally threw me down onto the growing pile of Dwarves, only to have two more Dwarves deposited on top of me. Luckily it was not poor old Bombur. Above me was Kili and above him, his brother. The youngest gave me an apologetic grimace as the rest of the pile began shifting beneath me; the wiggling movement of me beneath him caused a whole world of problem for Kili. And I could feel that problem against my thigh. Unfortunately, without the Dwarves below and above me getting up, I could not do so either which did not make any of this any better.

Finally Fili yanked his brother off of me and Kili held a very embarrassed and sheepish hand toward me to help me up. I took it, blushing more than I had wanted to and not quite being able to meet his eye. It was silly really, given that we had just been captured by Orcs whom would not doubt kill us, to be getting such confusing butterflies, it was all more than a little awkward. If now was not the time to remember the morning we left Bag End, it certainly was not the time to dwell on what this event might mean for Kili and me.

We had been placed before the largest, filthiest animal I had even witnessed; he wore nothing but a sullied loincloth and an almost toothless, menacing grin. He was taller by far than any other Goblin, taller than two or three Goblins stood on top of one another. I could smell him from where I stood.

"We found this lot prowling around the front porch," One of the lesser Orcs informed the Great Goblin, this one had the same fashion sense.

The Great Goblin scowled, "Who dares enter the Great Goblin's kingdom armed as such? Thieves? Spies? Assassins?"

"Dwarves, your malevolence." The nearest Orc answered somewhat tremulously. Even the followers were afraid of this leader, and that would not bode well for us.

"What are you doing in these parts of the Wild?" The Goblin leader demanded. He leered down with an ugly snarl of a smile. "Speak!"

Under Thorin's stubborn gaze none of us spoke a word, not that we would have anyway, but the emotion in the leader's eyes spoke that anyone who told them of our quest would be far worse than dead once we were through this.

"Very well," The Great Orc mused, "If they will not talk, make them squawk!" He certainly was not disappointed in our silence. The Goblin turned to his closest followers, "Bring up the mangler, bring up the bone breaker." He scanned our Company, an evil glint shining in his beige eyes.

"Well don't just stand there, search them!" The Great Goblin ordered. "Every crack, every crevice."

And they did, thoroughly and roughly. My bag was taken off my shoulder and thrown to my feet. They searched my pockets and inside my jacket, luckily they never searched my boots nor my cloak and so did not fine my weapons. They did, however, find something else.

"This one don't feel like a Dwarf to me," One Goblin commented to a fellow Orc.

The other Orc came over to examine me and looked me over. "It don't have no beard, that be true, but it's small."

"Its hair is awful long," The first Orc put in. "And it has lumps on its chest."

The second nodded, trying to see that for himself. I slapped the hands away firmly, cursing myself for having breasts for the first time in my life, they were more trouble than they were worth apparently.

"I think we got ourselves a lady Dwarf," The second Goblin announced to the rest of the pack.

I could see Kili stiffen beside me, but made sure to keep my mouth shut; my voice would only confirm the suspicions of these beasts. They pushed me forward, closer to their leader, just where I absolutely did not wish to be.

"You are sure this is a woman?" The Great one sneered. Right then I wished I could slit his throat just for that one comment, but I stared mutedly at him, daring him to try something.

The first Goblin nodded, "I am sure as anything, your malevolence." By this point, menacing contraptions, no doubt meant for torture, had been procured and were awaiting their first occupants.

The leader snorted, "I'll sort this one out, make sure she really is a she," He leered. "Every crevice," He repeated, I had to repress the shiver that went through me at his words, and in that moment I hated being a woman. "You lot get to work. Start with the youngest."

Two of the Orcs rushed forward and each grabbed one of Kili's arms and dragged him roughly along the floor toward one of the machines.

"Wait!" Thorin pleaded, stepping into full view of the Great Goblin.

So he was okay with the creatures doing whatever they liked to me, but to hurt one of his Dwarves was over the line? Clearly he only recognised Dwarf members of his Company. Although, if I had to choose between them using me as they planned or them torturing and causing Kili pain, I would probably step in to save Kili from harm too.

"Well, well, well!" The Great Goblin boomed, "If it isn't Thorin son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain!" He took a low mocking bow, "Oh!" He frowned in feigned confusion, "But I'm forgetting you don't have mountain, and you're not a king. Which makes you nobody really."

Thorin's scowl grew ever deeper and his eyes took on a dangerously dark turn, casting shadows over his entire expression. This must be how he felt when I told him he was not my king, only worse. The filthy Orc leader took me his overly large hands and squeezed the air from my lungs.

The Great Goblin began singing in a feral, guttural snarl, "Bones will be shattered, necks will be wrung, and you'll be beaten and battered, from racks you'll be hung. You will die down here and never be found, down in the deep of Goblin town."

The Goblins were beginning to rummage through our bags, I was slightly relieved they passed over mine, probably thinking that a weak woman's possessions were of no importance and certainly not dangerous. They were right, of course, my bag held only clothes and water skins. My weapons were still upon my person. Not that they knew that. One of the Goblins was throwing about Thorin's clothes and underclothes when he came upon something that made him scream and bawl like a child.

In his hand he held Thorin's sword, Orcrist, which glowed bright blue in the presence of all these Orcs, and that which he had found in the Troll hoard. The beasts could not look at it for their yammering and squalling, and it had yet to arm a single one of them.

"I know that sword! It is the Goblin-cleaver! The Biter! The blade that sliced a thousand necks!" The Great Goblin cried, "A reminder of the Goblin-wars won and lost!" The Great Goblin let me fall from his grasp, I was no longer of interest now that he was in a frenzy of fear and fury. "Slash them, beat them, peel them, kill them all!"

I landed on my bag and quickly shouldered it before anyone could take it from me. One of the Orcs had somehow managed to take a hold of Thorin, grabbing him by the beard and reeling him in. The Great Goblin screamed: "Cut off his head!"

Suddenly the cavern was filled with fire and light that echoed around the caves. I could see nothing nor could I hear a thing, my every sense had been obscured in a single moment. Without a thought I had my blade in hand. If this were some Goblin mischief, I would be ready for it this time. The light was replaced by a grey smoke, there were shapes moving between the wisps and swirls, but I could not tell if they were friend or foe. Then from the grey, came more Grey. Gandalf the Grey to be specific. Maybe I had been wrong about him deserting us, he had left to find some way to help us. I could never be more relieved than I was in that moment to see the old man and his knobbly staff. Wizards, I decided, were good friends to keep.

The wizard gave me a wink and nodded approvingly at my unsheathed sword. He turned to the Dwarves, "Take up arms. Fight. Fight!" He ordered.

The Dwarves scrambled to the pile of swords, knives, axes and bows that the Goblins had carelessly thought to pile up for just such an opportunity. They wielded them, now smirking at the lesser armed Orcs whom were terrified now that Thorin was united with his sword and even more so now they had seen Glamdring, the Elvish-sword Gandalf had coveted from the Trolls.

"He wields the Foe-hammer, the beater, bright as daylight!" Squawked the Great Goblin.

Try as I might, every time I threw back an opponent another was in its place. I sliced through arms, legs, chests and throats and one by one my attackers fell; I could hear shouts of my name, but I dared not turn away from the onslaught before me – a second of not concentrating properly could lose me my life.

Gandalf pulled me by the arm, "Follow me. Quick! Run!"

A Goblin took a swing of his sword, which I batted away with my own and brought my arm down to cut deeply into his overlong arm. I blocked the axe blow from the oncoming orc and took his other hand that now hung limply to slit him with his own blade. Only then did I do as told.

I ran, not like the paced and thought out run of a sprinter, but the panicked run of someone who could die any moment and wanted desperately not to do so. I knew I would be tired any second now, but I refused to change my pace and was soon amongst the middle of our Company. We all raced, full-speed, after Gandalf, not even daring to chance a look behind us. Much as I tried not to be, I was scared – terrified, if I were to be honest. This place seemed to be a maze of tunnels and turns, not to mention it was pitch black, I could only just see Balin in front of me and the youngest brothers by my side, Kili took my hand to make sure I kept pace with him. We may have been in front, but these Goblins know their tunnels far better than I. And they were certainly chasing us with all of their might.

We came out into a whole new cavern, filled with bridges that spanned from tunnel to tunnel, all closely packed so as one could jump between them if they desired. Which also just happened to be filled with even more Orcs. Fili and Kili forced me between them, ensuring I was out of the way from any errant swings that may come our way. Each blow made their arms shudder as the disarmed and or killed each coming Orc. It was like a sort of magic dance they did, knowing where the other will be before they moved. They moved lightning fast and their swords always found their targets as we slowly made our way through the crowds. An axe broke free of their parries and came down over Kili's head. To the luck of the youngest brother, I was ready and despite their efforts to keep me from the fight, I was needed. Just in the nick of time I had my blade above the brunette Dwarf, effectively cutting of the axe-strike before it could find its mark. My arm shook with the effort of keeping the sharpened metal from continuing its path, but I threw up my sword, swinging the axe away in a wide arc, so that Kili could stab the offending Goblin in the gut, black blood marring his sword.

The exit from this cavern was in sight, but we were not free yet. The humongous Great Goblin emerged from just the passage we were heading towards, effectively blocking our way out.

"You thought you could escape me!" He sneered, his dirt ridden face morphing into an ill-suited smirk of triumph.

Gandalf thrust us backward, there were few Orcs left alive and uninjured and they now halted their fight to laugh at our misfortune; we were as good as dead in their opinions and I was more than certain that they were right.

The Great Goblin snickered, his bulging stomach jiggling nauseatingly, "What are you going to do now, Wizard?"

Gandalf's face took on a determined grimace, he stabbed to unsuspecting Goblin leader in the eye with his gnarled staff. The wood coming away stained with Orc blood. The Goblin wailed and clutched at his now heavily bleeding eye, I suppose he probably regrets speaking as he did now, even I could have told him not to taunt a Wizard; even one as complacent as Gandalf usually was. He raised Glamdring in his other hand and sliced through the Goblin's stomach.

The inside of an Orc was even more disgusting than they were outwardly. And I thought they smelled bad on the outside! The stench was worse even that the Troll Hoard. The gloopy, viscous black liquid oozed from the wound, spreading like oil over the stone; organs fell out with soft, wet thumps, littering the cavern floor with squishy, lumpy innards. I did not want to see them, but at the same time it was hard to look away from something that revolting.

The Great Goblin's last words were: "That'll do it."

Gandalf rose his sword one last time and used it to slash the still living Goblin King's throat. The Orc's breathing was cut off with a gurgle of thick blood that spilled from his neck, sliding down the rest of his body. If only that were the end of our problems. The Great Goblin's final effort to thwart our escape was for his lifeless body to fall and catch on the bridge, snapping it clean in half.

The fall was nearly as terrible as it could possibly be. I just happened to land in a pool of the Great Goblin's sticky, odorous blood, and it felt just as foul as it looked. I could feel my skin rejecting its presence and my stomach heaved. Rocks and cave walls had also rained down, but I had avoided them, so maybe the blood was a small price to pay. The others were not so lucky, I set to helping them remove the rubble from on top of them, freeing them one at a time.

"Well, that could have been worse." Bofur chimed, trying to lighten the mood as he always did, jumping out from his pile of stones and wooden beams.

I laughed derisively, "Speak for yourself!" There was nothing I could use apart from my sleeve to try and wipe the blood from my face, Balin tossed me a ragged handkerchief to aid me, which I gratefully accepted.

"You've got to be joking!" Dwalin snapped, I turned to see he, too, had fallen foul (literally) and landed in another stinking pool.

I gave my hand to Kili, one of the last to be removed, he took my palm with relief. "You're okay," He beamed, returning to his feet once more.

"So are you," I returned his warm smile, fighting the urge to hug him again, I knew this was neither the time nor the place.

Kili's expression changed to that of frustration, his eyes staring just above my head. I pivoted to find the source of his disdain, a host of Orcs were filing through the other end or the cavern, clearly horrified that we had destroyed their leader.

"Gandalf!" Kili shouted in warning.

The other Dwarves and the Wizard turned to face our enemy, swords and axes in hand. We were ready.

"There's too many, we can't fight them." Dwalin complained. He was probably right, I could see no end in this onslaught of Goblin filth.

Gandalf took no more than a second to process our predicament and weigh up our options, not that there were all too many of those. "Only one thing will save us." He declared, "Daylight! Come on!"

The wizard reached down to Ori, the very last Dwarf to be freed from the beams that covered him. "Here, on your feet." He ordered as the Dwarf stumbled and unleashed his weapon.

Once again we found ourselves on the run. How Gandalf seemed to know his way I would never guess and I had not the time nor pressing urge to question him about it right now. I had no idea where Kili was in our newly forged formation, again I was in the middle. I could not see Bilbo either, then again, he would probably be at the back with Balin and Bombur; the Hobbit had never been much of a runner, I would beat him in races at four years old. I just hoped that these Dwarves would look after him and that the Goblins would be even slower than he was.

Gandalf had set an unrelenting pace, much harsher than I would have thought the old man capable, especially seeing as he did not falter from the lead. The tunnels were no longer quite as dark here; a hopeful sign for the lighter things became, then the closer we were to the surface. To my surprise and slight concern. Fili and Kili were at the back, doing their magic dance once more, fending off any Goblin that got too close for their liking and sending them off howling and often with missing limbs. As much as I wanted to, I could not go to help them; Nori was pushing me ahead of him, "They have it covered," He assured me.

They seemed to, but a part of me just wanted to be there to make sure. After all, Kili would not be here if it were not for my parry against the axe earlier. I quickly dismissed that thought, a world with no Kili was not one I wanted to think about, even if I knew it did not exist.

I was starting to get a little tired now, but the walls were getting brighter so I held on and kept going. The Goblins were not being as daring now, some of them even retreated as though the light physically hurt them. Again, this gave me hope; I knew they would not turn to stone like the Trolls (we were not that lucky), if the sunlight sent them reeling, I would certainly get to it as soon as I were able to. Evidently the others were getting tired too; their pace was dropping, yet I still pushed on, my short legs would not carry me as fast as theirs, but I kept up. A stitch was burning into my side, every step was a sharp pain, but I had to move on; stopping would only get me attacked.

Up ahead the light came to a crescendo, it had to be the way out; nothing but daylight could ever be this bright. The air was cleaner here, you could hardly smell the Orc filth at all; the scent of the outdoors was a welcome treat to the nose. Freedom.

We fled out of the cavern into glorious sunlight. It was clear that we had emerged on the other side of the mountains and yet I think I would have preferred going around to going under them, even if it did save a lot of time. There were woods at the very base of the mountain, so I noticed as the first arrow came to land at my feet.

A volley was sent that had us scattering, evidently the volley was accidental as the rest of the arrows came in showers not waver; the Orcs were clearly not that organised. If I could have seen where the archers were, I would have returned fire. Instead, I took charge for once.

"Into the tree line, now!" I ordered. No one moved. An arrow struck Thorin's bag, piercing a water skin inside. "Behind the tree line, or get an arrow to the chest." I reiterated, sprinting for the shelter and not even bothering to see if anyone followed. I knew Gandalf had done as I had said because I could hear his quiet chuckling behind me. Clearly my being bossy was somewhat amusing to the old grey Wizard. I gave it no further thought, I did not care if anyone found it funny; I was getting us to safety and that was all that mattered.

I stopped a few meters into the treeline to see the Dwarves all puffing along. I did not realise I had been holding my breath until I sighed with relief when I spied Kili had made it to the clearing. I almost doubled over with relief and breathed huge gulps of fresh air, now I was finally permitted to rest even if it was for a brief moment. I had no idea a stitch could burn so fiercely until I stopped moving and the fire took over, I really was not made for this kind of exertion. The youngest Dwarf was at my side in an instant. I gifted him a weak smile of relief before moving on to the next great problem. I could not find Bilbo. I had not seen him since we entered the caves. I had thought he would be at the back of our group, and yet now he was nowhere in sight.

Gandalf seemed to be thinking along the same lines as me. "Ori, Nori, Dori," He began counting us off on his fingers, "Oin, Gloin, Bofur, Bifur, Bombur, Dwalin, Balin, Fili, Kili, Thorin, Veyra…" He stopped short. "We are missing our Hobbit!"

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for the slightly shorter chapter, I didn't want to start the next part in this chapter. <strong>

**I've named this chapter after David Bowie's 'Magic Dance'.**


	9. Little Bird

"Where is Bilbo?" I questioned, my voice escaping harsher than I had meant it to in my state of panic, I had not wanted it to sound like an accusation, but it came out that way without my consent. Kili laced his fingers with mine in an effort to calm me from my anxious state, I gave his palm a gentle squeeze in gratitude. I must have realised I had not seen the Hobbit for far too long a time.

"He took his chance and he left!" Thorin assumed, proudly squaring his shoulders.

"No," I argued. I knew Bilbo had wanted to leave, but I was certain I had seen him in the caverns with us at some point. "My cousin would never do that." I did not know whom I was trying to convince; Thorin, or myself.

Thorin huffed, "Child, he was willing to leave last night without even saying goodbye to his own kin! How can you be so certain he would not desert us now?"

"We were in trouble," I countered, "He wouldn't have left us to deal with it without him."

Dwalin and a couple if others nodded in agreement, which relieved me greatly, I was not all that sure he had not returned to Rivendell as were his plans. Kili had neither agreed nor disagreed, which made me slightly uneasy; did he really think as little of Bilbo as Thorin did? I shrugged away the thought, as long as I believed in Bilbo that was all that mattered for now.

"We have to go back for him," For all we knew the Hobbit was lost in the caves or being tortured by Orcs and yet out here Thorin was treating him like a traitor. "He is my family and he is loyal, you'll see." I pleaded.

Kili shook his head and I felt a deep wave of disloyalty surge through me. I thought he understood the bond I had with my cousin. He looked hurt as he digested my expression of betrayal, his eyes tightened minutely. "I cannot let you go back in there with those creatures," He explained. "You do realise what they were planning to do to you, do you not? I am not risking you for anyone." My face softened slightly, at least he was only disagreeing with me for my own safety.

"And I am not risking my men," Thorin barked, "Not for a pretend burglar."

"Just what has my cousin done to deserve your treatment of him?" I burst, the question had been brewing within me for some time now and I could not hold my venom from spilling, "And what did I ever do when we first met that offended you so much as for you to hate me?"

Thorin scowled, "The Hobbit is too fond of his creature comforts and handkerchiefs, and he does not care for our kind nor our home. He is a burden which we cannot afford." I thought he would leave it there, but he continued. "You are stubborn and reckless. You think you know more than you possibly could and you do not act as a woman should."

I stayed silent, I could not exactly argue the points against me; I was stubborn as any Dwarf; my suggestion to go after Bilbo after what we had just escaped perhaps proved my recklessness; and I was in no way as lady-like as I would have liked to pretend.

"You are rude and arrogant and you would be better suited to have waited until adulthood to be wandering into the Wild." Thorin pushed on.

"If it were not for her, I would not be here, Uncle." Kili pressed, his lips in a hard line. "Without her we might never have read the map, or if we did it may have been too late." I could have kissed the youngest Dwarf there and then for sticking up for me. So far no one had bothered to interrupt Thorin and his ravings. Perhaps he was trying to make it up to me for agreeing with Thorin when I suggested to go back for Bilbo, it was working.

Thorin shrugged, "She would not have needed to defend you if you had been concentrating on looking after your own head and not hers!" He made no comment on the map, clearly he knew that his nephew was correct, at least on that one point.

"Uncle, she has been of use to us and you cannot deny it." Kili said pointedly. My stomach flipped to hear Kili praising me so, I had not thought he would believe me necessary on this mission; I had thought I was merely another companion to joke with to him, not someone who could help them.

"Look, I will not pretend that I am the greatest addition to the company that you could ever have, but I am what you have been given and you can despise me all you like, but you have to admit it could have been worse."

"Yes," Thorin agreed, "There could have been two of you." He snapped, "Or two of the Hobbit." He smirked.

"Curse the Halfling, we cannot leave him." Gloin decided, finally interceding in the confrontation. I could not help feeling that I had lost somehow.

"Where did you last see him?" Gandalf put out to the group.

Bifur grunted, actually speaking the Common Tongue for the first time since I had met him. "I think I saw him slip away when they first collared us." I wished he had stuck to speaking only in Khuzdul. They were not words I wanted to hear.

"What happened exactly? Tell me!" Gandalf inquired with feverent intensity.

Thorin answered in his usual gravelly growl. "I'll tell you what happened. Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it! He's thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since first he stepped out of his door. We will not be seeing our hobbit again, he is long gone."

"No, he isn't." A voice declared.

I turned around, nearly falling if it were not for Kili's steadying hand. Behind me, appearing as though from thin air, was my cousin and I had never been more delighted to see him in my entire life, though I should have thought him to be looking a little less smug with himself.

"Here is your burglar!" He boomed, a wide grin glued to his face.

I ran forward and flung my arms around him in a warm embrace. "If you ever do that to me again, I'll kill you." I warned, though I could not quite stay angry enough at my cousin. He was my family after all.

I looked around to the other Dwarves, all but Thorin seemed relieved and happy to have the Hobbit back in their midst once more. The youngest brothers clapped him on the back with welcoming beams upon both their faces. I had forgotten how alike they were up until that moment. If not for their hair colours and Kili's distinct lack of beard, they could have been identical.

Gandalf pushed me away from the Hobbit slightly, "Bilbo Baggins. I've never been so glad to see anyone in my life." He greeted the Halfling warmly.

Kili grinned down at me, "Bilbo, we'd given you up!" He said to the Halfling. Though he spoke with genuine joy to the Hobbit, I felt as though his happiness was more due to the fact that I was now ecstatic to have my cousin back, I figured that Kili would only be cheerful so long as his friends were.

"How on earth did you get past the goblins?" Fili asked, stealing the question from the mouths of everyone else in the Company.

Bilbo let out a nervous giggle, something he very rarely did unless put on the spot whereas he did not want to divulge something for fear of being in trouble. It had been years since I had last seen him like this, and then he had broken his mother's favourite teapot. He slipped something shinning into his waistcoat pocket. It was something small, but from the way he kept poking his finger back inside as though to make sure the object was still there, it must have been of great importance to him.

"Oh, what does it matter? He's back." Gandalf dismissed, saving the Hobbit from whatever explanation he was clearly about to make up. However, I could see Gandalf's eyes were trained on the pocket that Bilbo kept patting intermittently.

"It matters. I want to know. Why did you come back?" The Dwarf leader interrogated in his most derisive of tones.

The Hobbit shifted uncomfortably, "Look, I know you doubt me. I know...I know you always have. And you're right, I often think of Bag End. I miss my books, and my arm chair, and my garden. See, that's where I belong. That's home. And that's why I came back, because...you don't have one. A home. It was taken from you, but I will help you take it back if I can."

I sidled up along a baffled Thorin, "I told you he would be loyal," I smirked.

"You are ever arrogant and infuriating, you are aware are you not?" He shot back without even bothering to glance my way, but he still kept his words as quiet as I had so as not to interrupt the Dwarves in their celebrating Bilbo's return. For that, I was grateful to the Dwarf-king. "But I do not hate you," He added, causing me to widen my eyes in surprise, for that had been the last thing I had expected him to say.

Before I could make any response he was striding to the centre of the crowd, his authority seeping through once again. How could he not hate me when all he ever did was insult me? Dwarves are terribly confusing, though I do not think they would interest me so much were they not. It was Thorin's dismissal of my abilities that made me want to accompany the group, I wanted to prove myself to them, though I do not really know why.

"Well, now that we are all assembled, it would be wise to move on." Thorin instructed.

"But we've just got out of there," Kili complained. I gave him a gentle pat on the back in sympathy.

I re-joined the party, "He's actually right," This time it was Thorin's turn to have his eyebrows shoot upward in surprise and his mouth hang open, and I made a real effort to pretend I did not notice. "Come sundown these lands will be crawling with more Orcs than trees and I for one intend to have half this forest between us and them by such a time." I was somewhat confused as to why I was trying to help Thorin, it probably sounded as though I were trying to take charge and that is the last thing I would want.

Gandalf smiled approvingly, "They are correct, we must press on." He advised.

And press on we did, though at a much more leisurely pace than we had been traversing the caves, but we seemed to be covering good ground. Through the trees, I could no longer see the mountains, though at my height that did not necessarily mean we were in the clear yet. Was it my imagination or could I already hear a pursuit? Surely not, the sun was still high above us, and the Goblins would not brave the light yet, would they?

I threw away such ideas. They would only slow me down and get me worried. Of course, I was concerned that the Goblins would soon be on their way, but it was better to be aware rather than afraid. Awareness meant that you were ready for whatever happened, fear meant that you could be petrified and unable to act should anything go wrong. Fear cost lives, awareness saved them. No one spoke, but the silence was not uncomfortable; it was the kind of silence that falls like a blanket when everyone in a group concentrates on what they have to do. In this case, that was moving forward, whilst being on the lookout for anything and anyone approaching us.

The sun slunk away and was replaced by a moonless sky, but we kept on; it was likely that we would not slumber this night until we were all sure that we were clear of any stray Orcs. Out of the darkness came a fierce and piercing howl.

"Wargs," Kili breathed from beside me.

I shuddered. "Not good,"

Kili smirked momentarily, "Not good." He agreed.

More howling followed, louder than before; closer. We came upon a large clearing in what appeared to be the middle of the forest, with no cover, there was only one thing to do.

"Up the trees quick!" Gandalf barked the order as he latched onto a branch.

Thorin grunted, "Out of the frying pan,"

"And into the fire." Gandalf finished for him.

A hand flew down in front of me. Fili had already flown into a tree and was attempting to bring me up too. I took his hand with a grateful 'thanks' as he heaved me onto the branch beside him. He held onto my waist and urged me onto the branch above him. As soon as I was up there, the blond brother reached for Kili, who jumped into the tree with the ease of a cat. Show off.

I scanned the other trees around the clearing, all the Dwarves were in the cover of branches, and even Bilbo had just disappeared into a tree when the first of the Wargs appeared. A Warg, I discovered, was a dog-like creature, easily as large as any wolf I had ever seen, but with teeth as long as my fingers and matted fur. These did not look like creatures who could be reasoned with, nor were they beasts that could be tamed by kindly treatment.

Wargs poured into the clearing thick and fast, in waves of yammering and howling. I could not hear anything else, but I could tell that the Wargs were waiting for something, they made a semi-circle around an opening; this all looked to me far more organised than I would have ever imagined such animals could possibly be. I was astounded and a little impressed at their unity. After the last of them filed into place an eerie silence fell over them. I decided I was right, they were definitely waiting for something.

An eternity passed in this quiet, or so it would seem, before something actually happened. It was not a happy event that followed. A Goblin burst into the clearing. The wolves made no movement. So that was what they waited for, a meeting with the foulest beasts in the realm.

Then something brilliant happened. A pine cone flew from a tree, not just any old pine cone; this one glowed with a blue flame. It landed on the fur of one of the closest Wargs. Suspiciously, the cone had fallen from the same tree that a particular wizard happened to be occupying. More fell and more Wargs caught alight, the flames burned brightly; blue, yellow, pink, green, purple and red.

The beasts below were running and yowling with pain and anguish, they had expected our presence about as much as we had expected theirs. I felt somewhat pitiful for them, they had not actually done anything to us, though if they had had the chance they probably would have ripped us all to shreds by this point.

The only downside to this plan of Gandalf's was that the Wargs did not stay still; as they writhed and tried to flee their own pain, they inadvertently hit and brushed against trees and bushes. The trees quickly caught fire, the bark burning away in haste. The flames climbed the bark, their tongues grazing the lowest branches.

I forced myself to climb higher, dragging the brothers up behind me, an instinctual part of me told me that we needed to get as high as possible. Our troubles only increased as more Orcs began to find our clearing, joyful in both the Wargs pain and our misfortune.

They sang in a broken, guttural fashion: "_Bake and toast 'em, fry and roast 'em! / 'til beards blaze and eyes glaze!_" It was a terribly disconcerting sound to behold, even worse than my own singing and definitely hideous compared with Elvish voices. The words alone were horrible in themselves and I felt very strongly about being roasted and toasted, it was not my ideal plan for the night. The Goblins repeated the chorus over and over, until I was sure I would remember it for the rest of my life.

The tree next to ours was wavering dangerously under the weight of Thorin and Bilbo, its roots and trunk heavily charred and broken by the tendrils of blue fire that crawled higher each moment. Suddenly it dipped, crashing into the tree that I occupied with the young brothers. I fell to the ground with a bump. But I was not the only one. Thorin, too, had been jolted from his tree, but unlike me he had hit his head hard on the earth. The unconscious leader groaned.

A stray Warg had stopped his yowling as soon as he spotted its next meal and began his prowl. It lowered itself into a stalking pose, creeping toward us with its teeth bared and a snarl in its lips. The growling that it emitted attracted the attention of the Orcs, whom ceased their singing, delightedly shifting their scrutiny to me, a smallish woman, and Thorin, an unconscious and helpless Dwarf.

I swiftly drew my blade from my boot, gripping it tightly. I hoped that something would interfere, I knew I stood no chance defending Thorin and myself alone against so many Orcs and Wargs.

The Warg kept coming, it's snarling becoming faster and even more deadly. Without the twitch of a muscle it sprang using all four paws as it launched into me, knocking me from my stance. I slashed deeply into its leg as we both tumbled to the ground. It snapped viciously at my face and I was only just able to move away in time to keep the full length of my nose. The beast swiped at me with a clumsy paw that I batted away with my sword as easily as I would swat a fly. I could see the gash I had made in its back leg was causing it some trouble, but before I could put it out of its misery, an arrow flew straight though its hide and wedged itself into the creatures heart.

I glanced above me to see that Kili had his bow extended. I nodded gratefully as I returned my attention to the Goblins now surrounding me. As I felled and slew opponents in front of me, others were falling, their bodies littered with arrows. I knew I was not fighting alone and yet, no one had climbed down to help me. I knew Kili would feel that it would mean taking his eyes off me to climb down and leaving me undefended for a few moments and that might just have been enough to end me. As grateful as I was to have him protect me from above, I would have much preferred him to be by my side.

Another round of Orcs fell at my feet as my blade cut them down as easily as a knife through butter, screaming rose around me from the foul creatures, all of them pointing above me. I dared not look away from them in fear of this being some sort of rouse to get me to defer my attention so as they might slit my throat. Still Wargs and Goblins alike howled at some unknown occurrence. I chanced a peek behind me to see how Thorin was doing; surely he should be conscious by now. He was not there; he had completely disappeared.

I soon figured out just what this phenomenon was. Great scaly talons wrapped around my middle and pulled me upwards. My first instinct would have been to slash them and return to the ground; and I would have were it not for seeing Thorin. A great, humongous Eagle held the Dwarven leader gently in its claws; a concerned, yet relieved looking Bilbo riding on its back.

Below, the vicious beasts were yammering and promising revenge upon us all and cursing the majestic Eagles whom had saved us from our grisly fate. Other Eagles flew close by, but I could not as yet see who rode which. It seemed as though only Thorin and I had been granted the privilege of being carried whilst all others afforded the luxury of flying upon the feathered backs of the creatures.

Without a warning I was released, falling through the air with great speed. Before I could worry about that too much, my back collided with a soft yet pricklybed of sorts. Looking around I could see that it was a nest, a giant Eagle nest. I supposed it had to be so large to accommodate such immensely sized birds. Thankfully, I was not alone; Ori, Gloin, Bofur and Balin had proceeded me in their descent, though they had been given the gift of alighting their Eagles in landing rather than in flight as I had done. I tried not to grumble, which became difficult when the bird that had carried me landed beside me to allow Fili and Kili to climb down.

Thorin was dropped next, though he had not landed nearly as luckily as I had done. The Dwarf leader hung on the opposite side by a twig over the nest edge, teetering dangerously, his tangled cloak the only thing keeping him from a terrible fall. I dared not so much as peek over the edge to see how many leagues we were from the ground, though something told me giant birds would not likely roost as low down as their tiny kin. He had already flown down from one tree, being ejected from another could be fatal for the still unconscious Dwarf King.

The cloak creaked from the strain; squeaking in exertion before, finally, the threads loosened their ties and the garment began to tear, the weave parting inch by inch. I could not watch, but I was too far away to do anything useful and the rip was nearing the edge; coming closer and closer to its final string. I badly wished I could step in and be the hero, but sadly this was not my time to do so; I was paralysed and even if I had been closer, I would have been too frightened to do anything useful at all.

All too soon the last thread gave way to the attacking twig, cleaved in two by both the sharp stick and Thorin's weight. Defeated. He fell. Not too far though. In the panic of realising there was nothing I could do to save the leader, I had failed to notice that there was someone who could: Bilbo.

The Hobbit had lunged from his landing spot, a few yards away, and just in the nick of time, caught Thorin by the arm before he descended more than a foot. Dwarves (I was too dazed to take note of which ones, but I would bet my life that Fili and Kili were among them) rushed to heave their leader from the unknown abyss. They propped him in a sitting position where the nest met the tree.

The Dwarf King's eyes fluttered briefly, yet refused to open.

"Thorin! Thorin." Gandalf called, once Bilbo had managed to safely pull the Dwarf into the nest.

With no reply other than the smallest of groans, the wizard began to do what wizards to best: he cast a spell. For what seemed an eternity the wizard chanted and sang in the language of Elves, a healing song alike to the one he had sung for my arm, yet this one was different; darker and more complex. It was a song of revival, more so than making better, it spoke of a thousand nights and shadows, but also of the bringing of light and hope. Gandalf was forcefully bringing back to us the Dwarf that Bilbo had saved.

Thorin's eyes burst open at last and he took a few deep, gasping breaths to steady himself. He looked about himself, wildly searching for some unknown thing. "The Halfling?" He demanded suddenly.

Gandalf chuckled, "It's alright. Bilbo is here, he's quite safe."

That did not appear to lighten the scowl that drew in the Dwarf's eyebrows and turned down the corners of his lips into a disdainful frown. "You!" He threw accusingly at Bilbo, pointing a chubby finger at the Hobbit. "What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed! Did I not say that you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild, and you had no place amongst us."

For the second time in the space of an hour, I wanted to punch this Dwarven leader; my cousin had just saved Thorin's life and now he was criticising him once more. The only thing to stop me this time, was the fact that the Dwarf was still speaking, though now his entire countenance had altered.

"I have never been so wrong, in all my life." He finished with what would possibly have been the warmest smile I had ever seen Thorin give to anyone, especially Bilbo. He took the kindness further by offering the Hobbit a hug, obviously the Hobbit accepted. "I'm sorry I doubted you."

"No," Bilbo frowned, "I...I would have doubted me too. I'm not a hero, nor a warrior. Not even a burglar." For once the Hobbit seemed shy of praise, when once it had been all he had desired from the Dwarf leader.

One by one, the Eagles flew the nest, their wings taking to the air with an ease and grace that should not belong to such large creatures. Gandalf chuckled at our confused and indignant faces. "They will not take us to the mountain; they do not meddle in the affairs of us lesser beings." He explained.

Thorin had been staring at something behind me for the past few minutes, his attention fixed in its entirety. I turned my head slightly and gasped. I could see it; the Lonely Mountain. Or at least, I had guessed it to be the Lonely Mountain. A solitary peak in an ocean of wasteland and forest. Its tip shone from the snowy summit. The whole thing cast a shadow that seemed to go on until the end of the world itself.

I tugged on Kili's arm and turned him to face what would surely be the best thing he had seen in a very long time. I watched his face as it lit up with the joy of a thousand happy memories, his eyes crinkled at the edges and his smile could have broken a million hearts right then and there. It was more beautiful for me to behold than the mountain, or anything for that matter, could ever have been.

"Is that what I think it is?" Bilbo questioned, drawing the attention of all the others.

Each Dwarf turned their head, their expressions going from discomfort to exultation in seconds. There was nowhere else in the entire world that these Dwarves would ever want to be so badly and to be this close was clearly more than they had expected.

"Erebor!" Gandalf clarified, confirming my suspicions. "The Lonely Mountain. The last of the Great Dwarf Kingdoms of Middle-earth."

Thorin broke free from his trance long enough to agree, "Our home." He mumbled.

Kili pushed me to stand in front of him, both hands folding themselves around my own. "Yes," He breathed, resting his head atop mine, "Our home."

I knew not whether he was referring to his home with his kin or giving me a true home with him. I did not care, he wanted to go home so badly; something that I knew I should feel about the Shire, but I did not. The Shire had never been a place I could call home really; I had family there, yes, but no friends. People rarely want to be friends with a half-breed. Even some of my family were not that pleasant to me. Maybe I could visit them in the mountain once they had taken it back? Surely Thorin would not mind, after all I was trying to help them get it back in the first place. The mountain was bound to be busier and more interesting than the farmlands of the Shire.

Emerging from the distance a small, dark winged little bird beat its wings. It passed us steadily and flew onward, to the mountain top.

"A raven!" Oin crowed, "The birds are returning to the mountain." I had happened to get a fairly good look at the tiny creature, and was fairly certain that it was definitely not a raven. For a start, it was not even black; merely a very dark brown, with a lighter underbelly. Also, it was far too small to be a raven, at least I thought it was.

"That, my dear Oin," Gandalf tittered, "Is a thrush."

The Dwarf shook his head, muttering that he knew that and at least he spotted it.

Thorin clapped his crestfallen friend on the back, "Well, we'll take it as a sign, a good omen." He asserted, lifting Oin's spirits greatly. At least it could be said that the Dwarf leader was good to his own people.

"You're right." Bilbo agreed cheerily, "I do believe the worst is behind us."

My cousin was trying to lighten the mood and give us hope, but I had a sneaking suspicion that the worst lay ahead and not behind. Even with Kili's warmth at my back and his hands in mine, I could not help but feel uneasy about the rest of the journey.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you to anyone still reading this. Updates should come quicker over the next few weeks. <strong>

**Reviews would be greatly appreciated. **

**The song for this chapter is Little Bird by Ed Sheeran.**


	10. The Only Exception

As it was still dark, we were granted a few hours of sleep and rest; we were to climb down at first light. It was not as difficult a task as I had imagined, the tree had plenty of nooks and branches to ease our descent and the height did not bother me as much as it ought to. We crept down altogether quite nimbly, although Bombur did make a few branches creak a little more than I would have liked them to have. Bilbo struggled a little, being so high up; Hobbits were not naturally predisposed to heights, many would refuse lodgings on the second floor of an inn, they would maintain that it is safer to sleep on the ground than in the sky.

I had no idea of where we could be, yet Gandalf assembled us calmly and even Thorin waited for his instruction. "We are very near indeed to the Carrock," He explained, "It is the home of a very special someone, an old friend of mine."

Something about the way that Gandalf had avoided saying the name or even the race of this person worried me, it was like to be someone whom Thorin would not take to. I just hoped it was not more Elves; I do not think the leader would withstand any more encounters with such creatures.

Evidently the Dwarf in question had the very same worry. "Who is this friend of yours, Wizard?" He inquired cautiously.

Gandalf smiled serenely, far too accustomed to Thorin's distrust. "He is someone whom you would do well to remember your courtesies around, especially now we are in his territory." He warned gently.

"Bu- but he will help us. Won't he?" Bilbo interjected nervously.

"He might," Gandalf answered somewhat uncertainly. "Look," He pointed off into the distance, "There is his house."

Indeed, there it was. It was a quaint thing, surrounded by tall hedges apart from where an iron archway formed an entrance. Inside could be seen numerous bee hives, a glorious garden brimming with flowers and a large wooden cabin; it was too vast to house Hobbits or Dwarves, it even looked a little on the roomy side for someone as tall as Gandalf to live in.

As we got closer, Gandalf's eyebrows slithered closer together. Whoever we were to meet, I took it that they were not to be crossed. Before we had got to the gate, the wizard brought us to a halt. "My friend," he began, "Is not a great lover of Dwarves." Gandalf warned. "But I think if I introduce you all slowly he will be appeased."

He swiftly separated us into groups of two or three, "Bilbo, Veyra you both shall come first with me; my friend has no quarrel with Hobbit kind. Thorin shall come too as a show of good faith." The wizard ushered us before him and through the iron archway, the inside of the garden was filled with the scent of honey and roses mixed with earth and firewood.

The cabin door was easily twice the height of myself and even larger in comparison to Bilbo, it was painted a rust red. The entire cabin seemed to be adorned with scratches, dangerous looking scratches; claw markings even. Whoever lived here seemed used to attack. The wizard raised his staff and rapped three times firmly upon the wooden entrance.

Thunderous steps boomed their way to the threshold and the door was pulled back by a strength that seemed to almost pull it from its hinges. The opening revealed a gigantic, hair ridden man with the thickest black beard I had ever seen. His arms were knotted with muscle and layered with even more hair; it was as though he were some kind of animal, the amount of fur he seemed to have. The man towered over us, nearly as tall as the door frame, he almost had to stoop to make sure he cleared the beams.

"Gandalf!" He growled in a strange accent I had not heard before; it was exotic and rugged and somewhat wild. "And to what do I owe this pleasure?" The man questions, his brows knitted together in distrust.

"My friend, Beorn!" Gandalf greeted, "My friends and I were merely passing by and thought we would call in," The wizard explained.

Beorn tilted his head quizzically, "And these are your friends?"

"Yes," The wizard confirmed, "This is my dear friend Bilbo of the Shire and his cousin Veyra; with them is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror. There are but one or two more on their way."

Beorn assessed this and assessed us, "Very well, come in and do tell me of your business; it is not often anyone comes to visit these parts simply on a whim."

"You are quite right," Gandalf chuckled.

Beorn stepped backward to allow us entry, leaving the door open for the others to get in by. He lead us through to his dining area, a long oak table surrounded by upturned barrels which served as stools; some of them even wore cushioned hats for comfort, I selected one of those knowing we would be sat here for a good while. Strange horses, alight with unnatural intelligence, brought in mugs of strong tea on a tray rested upon their backs. Internally I could not help but wonder how they had gotten the mugs and trays there in the first place. Their balance was better than any I had seen before; they did not spill a drop the entire time.

"Our business is a quest of my friend Thorin's, he wishes to find his home, but we have had one or two troubles along the way." Gandalf began.

Beorn scratched his substantial beard, "It is long since I have heard tales of any such adventures, I take it you are to be Thorin of the Lonely Mountain?" He directed at the Dwarf-leader.

"Aye," Thorin affirmed, not wanting to impart information with this stranger, but remembering Gandalf's warning and not wanting to be rude.

The large man nodded and Gandalf continued, "Our problems began truly when we ran into a trio of Trolls in the Lowlands, they had come down in-"

At that moment two Dwarves made their appearance, bowing and grinning as they had done when they arrived at Bilbo's abode. "Fili," One announced, "And Kili," The same Dwarf informed Beorn indicating his dark-haired brother.

"At your service," Kili greeted winking at me. Together the brothers made one final sweeping bow.

Beorn snickered at their unison, "Please sit, my name is Beorn." He told them. "Please, go on with your story." He instructed the wizard.

Gandalf obliged. "The trolls were most troublesome; they had decided to take two, and eventually, four of our ponies." Beorn seemed amused and outraged by this. "My friend Bilbo here attempted to get them back by- Oh here are a couple more of my friends!"

"You said there were but one or two more on their way!" Beorn quizzed.

Gandalf smiled pleasantly, "There are only a few more." He assured.

"Balin," The white bearded one said, swinging in a low bow.

"And Dwalin," The other proclaimed, bowing lower and longer than his brother in an effort to outdo his accomplice.

"At your service," The Dwarves finished together.

Beorn grumbled, "Yes, yes, and I am Beorn at yours now sit down and listen."

"Now, young Bilbo and his accomplices were soon caught hold of by the Trolls whom spent a good deal of time arguing amongst themselves about the best ways of eating Hobbits and Dwarves; they would fry them, roast them, put them in a pie, or simply sit on them and turn them into jelly" Gandalf allowed for Beorn's hearty laugh. "Luckily, my friend Bilbo had the idea to- Ah here are a few more!"

Three more Dwarves entered, bowing and declaring their names. Bofur, Bifur and Bombur hastened to take seats as the host barked for hush, irritated by the interruption.

"This is surely all of them by now, wizard?" Beorn grunted.

"Ah, there is but some more to come," The wizard clarified vaguely.

As Gandalf's account went on, more Dwarves came in and with each interruption, Beorn grew fiercer and yet he also became even more interested in the tale, a great anticipation blooming within him. Gandalf truly was very clever to have devised such a way to gain entry for all of these Dwarves. Beorn seemed especially impressed when told of the Slaughter of the Goblin King.

"Ah, a wonderful story you do tell, Gandalf!" He exclaimed when the adventure had been recounted in full at last, "Such a tale deserves a reward and the hour grows late; I shall allow you to stay for the night, you shall be well-taken care of, I assure you. Though I have no love of Dwarves, I do hate Orcs more and what better way to displease the Orc-kind than to provide for their King-slayers?" He let out another rumble of mirth.

Gandalf beamed, "That would be greatly appreciated, my friend."

"I hope that this fifteen is the entirety of the 'friends' you wish me to meet?" Beorn asked.

The wizard nodded, "Indeed, these are all the Company of Thorin Oakenshield."

Beorn bobbed his head approvingly, "Very well, you shall all have your supper shortly." He gestured to the animals about his home and they each took up a task or chore elsewhere in the cabin, "I will be leaving before then, and I must warn you not to venture outside my home this night. It could be dangerous for you all." He warned, striding from the room followed by Gandalf to the drawing room where they conversed in low voices, discussing things not meant for our ears.

"So what do you think he is?" Fili whispered on my right.

I considered his appearance, "I'm not too sure, if it were not for him being so tall and the strange furriness, I would have said the race of Men."

Kili snickered. "I think he must be some sort of Skin-changer."

"They do not truly exist, do they?" I asked, they had always been a myth about the Shire.

Kili shrugged, "Who knows?" A dangerous glint crept into his eyes, "Maybe he's a terrifying monster!" He smirked.

"Not likely," I deadpanned to a snigger from Fili. "Besides, he is giving us food, how bad can he really be?"

Fili shrugged, "At least we're safer in here for the night than we would have been out there. I hope Thorin persuades our host to supply us when we leave too."

"He will," Kili assured with all confidence in his uncle. I was sure he would too; no matter the Dwarf-leader's other downfalls, he would make sure his men were taken care of whenever he could. As much as I hated to admit it, I admired him for that.

Beorn left without a word and supper came, escorted by the curious creatures that had serviced us earlier, none of them dropping a single thing despite them having hooves and not hands. There were brought whole roasts of meat: beef, pork and chicken; entire crops of vegetables, some of which I had never seen before in my life; there were trifles, strawberries, cakes and tarts aplenty. The drinks were flowing well with selections of strong ales, sweet wines and fiery whiskeys. To follow all of this were wheels of cheese and stacks of different types of biscuits, which were almost as tall as I sat.

"So, Gandalf," Balin started the conversation between mouthfuls, "What exactly is our host? I do not believe I have ever seen his likeness."

All other conversation ceased and silence fell upon the table, evidently everyone else had been wondering the same thing; all eyes lay on the wizard. "Indeed," He mused. "You will not have seen his like, for he is a Skin-changer, a Shape-shifter."

Thorin cleared his throat, "I had thought them not to exist,"

Skin-changers were once abundant, or so the Legends assured, but that was back in the First Age. I had not thought they would still be among us, especially with no word of them in the Second Age and the Third Age, thus far at least.

"Alas, my friend is the very last of his kind; he has as much reason to hate Orcs as you do." The wizard explained. "At times he appears as a great, strong man and at others a great, black bear."

Personally, I would not trifle with either. I suppose the man could be reasoned with; the bear, not so much – though I hope I have not the misfortune to cross either.

"Told you he was a monster," Kili snickered under his breath.

Gandalf tittered, "Not a monster, my dear Kili, but it is wise to respect him as someone who would be dangerous in a disagreement." Gandalf warned.

"He is giving us food and somewhere to stay, I will not disagree with him! As long as I am fed he could tell me the sky is purple and I will tell him he is right!" I joked.

The wizard chuckled, "The rest of you will do very well to follow Veyra's example." Though on the surface it was a joke, I could tell that the old man hoped the rest of them would do as I did and keep their heads down. For the good of us all.

We finished the food in comfortable silence, each of us eating more than we really should have after being starved as we were, though even Gandalf had not the heart to tell us to restrain ourselves. Once done, we retired to the area of the hall in which our host had laid out fifteen blankets and pillows. I had never known anyone to keep so many spare blankets, I would never think to – yet again, before this quest, I was very unlikely to get one visitor, let alone fifteen.

The blankets were spun of a soft wool and even the floor was not too uncomfortable. I fell into the routine of settling myself in my blanket between Fili and Kili, it was the best place to find a bit of humour and cheer after all.

"I wonder what kind of bear he transforms into," Fili mused.

"Certainly not a teddy bear." Kili sniggered, a sleepy, lopsided grin resting upon his face.

Fili reached over me to swat his brother, "No!" He complained, "I mean to say is he a brown bear or a grizzly? Is his fur neat or matted? That sort of thing."

"Well his beard was brown, so probably a brown bear, and it was even more untidy than yours, Fili" I answered, "So perhaps-"

I never finished the sentence as Fili had landed a swift prod to my ticklish side, causing me to cry out in shock.

Kili grinned, "Oh no, Vey is ticklish!" He wailed in mock horror. "Do you know what that means, Fili?" The blond brother smirked in an expression mirroring Kili's playfulness.

I knew that glint that housed itself in Kili's chocolate depths. "No!" I asserted. "If you do what I think you're planning to do, I swear to the Valar I will kill-"

Needless to say, they did as they had planned. I was tickled by both brothers in an assault that left me breathless and aching but not entirely from the tickling sensation. Kili's hands on my sides had a remarkable effect, I do not think I even noticed when Fili stopped and left us. Suddenly all I could take not of was the dark haired Dwarf beside me. He ceased, but his hands did not move from my sides. Neither of us moved, how could I when he was staring at me with such a heated intensity? Not that I even wanted to, I would happily stay like this until the end of time.

"Veyra!" A stern voice cut in, Kili leapt away as though burnt and blushed like a child caught doing something they should not be doing. "A word." Thorin barked, striding away without even looking to see if I would follow.

"Sorry," I mumbled to Kili as I got up to converse with the leader, though I was not really sure about what exactly I was apologising for or even if I had any reason to. I did not hear his answer, if there was one at all.

The Dwarf king finally halted by the great entrance, turning to scrutinise me intensely. I was more than a little uncomfortable under such close examination, but I held my chin up and met his glare in stony silence. It probably not as long as it seemed to me before someone spoke, but then again; it cannot possibly have been the eternity that it had felt like.

"What are your intentions?" He hissed harshly, arms folded across his chest in expectation.

"Wh-w-what?" I spluttered, taken aback by the question that I did not entirely understand, though a part of me knew I was deliberately refusing to understand it.

Thorin sighed heavily, "You know of what I speak." He spat. "I wish to know of your intentions with my nephew."

"Which one?" I hedged, trying to stifle a blush.

"Kili." The Dwarf seethed, evidently losing his patience in my playing dumb.

There was no way to stop the blood rushing to my face now, I looked down at the floor, my hair shielding my face. "I- I would never hurt him, I-"

"Girl, do not test me." He growled. "You care about him, do you not?"  
>I glanced up at the now somewhat softened Dwarf, "Of course I do." I answered, baffled by the leader's direction of thought.<p>

Thorin nodded, "And you have a certain… affection for him, I presume?"

I stuttered a few times, failing to formulate words, I bobbed my head in admittance. Of course I did; the dark haired brother had been nothing but kind and gentle with me since our first meeting, not to mention that he was incredibly good-looking. Not that I would verbalise any of this to the Dwarf in question's uncle. How in Middle-earth Thorin had come to this conclusion that I was… interested in his nephew, I had no clue – I had thought I had been discrete with my feelings. Apparently not.

"Then I take it you do not want him put in any danger," Thorin continued.

I sighed, "I do not want him hurt,"

"Then you will promise me that you will prevent him from doing anything reckless in regards to protecting you."

"I will, of course I will." I replied, confused. "I would do anything in my power to see that he is safe." I pledged.

Thorin seemed the slightest bit pleased, though that soon washed away into his usual frozen countenance. "Good. That is all." He said, dismissing me.

I had expected to be told to keep away from him, or to make sure Kili does not find out and instead I was being told to protect him; I would have done that anyway.

I stumbled back to my blanket where Fili and Kili were both pretending that they had not been doing their best to eavesdrop. I decided it would be best not to ask what, if anything, they had overheard; it would only be all the more embarrassing if they had heard nothing and I then had to explain. I would never hear the end of it from Fili and I am not too sure how the younger brother would feel about the discussion.

The two of them welcomed me back and we resumed our banter as though nothing had happened and there had been no interruption. Before long, however, night was falling and Thorin was doing the rounds to ensure that everyone was quietening down and getting ready to sleep. The pillow and blanket were particularly inviting as my eyelids began to droop, I rolled onto my side and said my goodnights to the brothers, slinking into a dream sooner than I would have thought.

Sadly my dreams were filled with a faceless shadow calling my name, yet this time I was not with my mother in the Old Forest of the Shire; I was in a wood I did not know, but at least the trees were still. After searching for the shadow for what seemed like hours, I emerged at the side of a vast lake, but there was something odd about it a sound that did not belong to what I could see.

When I woke, it was still pitch black, but a sound had awakened me; faint and eerie. There it was again! A scratching and scuffling. I waited a few moments for my eyes to become more adjusted to the limited light. I soon realised I was not the only one awake.

"Bad dreams again?" Kili whispered.

"Yes," I admitted. A bout of scratching caused me to sit up and stiffen, "That woke me though," I breathed.

Kili shuffled closer to my side. "Do not worry, it's been going on for a while now. From the sounds of it, whatever is out there cannot get inside." He assured, smiling down at me.

"What do you think it is?" I asked with a yawn.

Kili shrugged, "Could be Beorn in his bear skin, but it sounds like more than one of them." He was right; it sounded like three or four. "Was it the same one?" He questioned, referring to my dream and changing the subject.

"No," I frowned, "It was not exactly a frightening dream… just confusing and unnerving." I told him what had happened.

Kili's brown huddled together, "I wonder what it could mean." He pondered aloud.

"I wish I knew," I huffed tiredly.

"Hey," He cooed, pulling me into him and placing an arm about my shoulders, "We'll figure it out together, do not fear, Vey."

I simply nodded, resting my head upon him.

He lifted my chin with a gentle hand, bringing my gaze to meet with his and holding it there even though my natural reaction was to blush furiously and turn away. "I swear you I will help you figure this out." He promised, "I hate seeing you so troubled." That look was back in his eyes, the burning intensity from before his uncle had dragged me away, but this time there was something else there too; uncertainty.

Kili brought his face to mine and, without hesitation, softly placed his lips to my own. With the firm, yet unsure pressure of his mouth on mine all thought of anything other than the feel and scent of him drained from my mind. I leaned in closer and increased the contact, deepening the kiss. My hand wound its way around Kili's neck without my permission. Whatever it was outside had been utterly forgotten and I could not care less should they barge in right this minute so long as they did not disturb us too much.

All too soon there came a need to break apart, but only so as to resume that old troublesome habit of breathing. By this point both his palms cupped my face, whilst mine were lost to that labyrinth of russet locks. My breaths came in ragged gasps that matched his own sharp inhalations, despite the lack of oxygen I could do nothing but beam at him.

Kili stroked my face before bringing me to lay beside him, ever the gentleman he was he pulled my blanket firmly about me and cuddled me into his side. Once more I fell to sleep, and yet this time there were no worrying dreams only him.

I woke for the second time with Kili timidly shaking me awake, he appeared to have been forced into it by the reluctant grimace upon his visage. I soon found out why he was made to do so; Bilbo had been fretting that the others would eat all of the food mysteriously left out for our breakfast.

"Sorry, Vey," He apologised, "I do not think I could have saved you some myself and Bilbo did not trust the others to do so."

It was true, Kili would never have been able to move without waking me; I was laid with my head across his chest and my arms about his neck, it must have been awfully uncomfortable for him and yet the grin on his face told me he did not care.

I mumbled something incoherent in my half-sleeping state.

"Come on, sleepy," He chuckled, "You sit down, I'll sort you some breakfast."

As we entered the dining hall hand in hand and Kili led me to a chair, I could feel all eyes upon us; even though they feigned disinterest. They quit that right away, however, when Kili placed a carefree kiss upon my forehead before he went in search of food for us. Ori openly gawked and Bombur's mouth hung agape, meanwhile Bofur gave me a knowing wink and Fili came to sit beside me.

"Sleep well?" The blond asked in his usual mocking manner, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, his moustache braids swinging merrily.

I blushed, "I slept alright, thank you." I replied innocently.

"It looked to me like you slept more than just 'alright'…" He pressed.

So he had seen, as I knew he would have and knowing the brother's inability to keep any of Kili's doings a secret, he had obviously informed everyone else. Though, from their reaction to the forehead kiss, they did not know of the actual kiss. I do not think I wanted to keep it private, but I definitely do not wish to have everyone staring at me the way they were now and it only intensified when Kili returned with our plates. Kili, however, seemed completely unaware of any unwanted attention and carried on with his jokes and laughter as though us being… whatever we were was already an established thing.

Luckily Gandalf re-entered the cabin and took all of the attention away from us. He had gone outside alone to investigate the activities of the night. "There must have been a regular bears' meeting outside here last night." He announced.

"And what would you call ordinary?" Fili asked curiously.

"I should say there were little bears, large bears, ordinary bears, and gigantic big bears, all dancing outside from dark to nearly dawn."

"Dancing?" I blurted, "I have never heard of any meeting where the participants dance to discuss issues."

"Ah, that is the way of the bears of these parts, young Veyra. " Gandalf informed me kindly.

Thorin cleared his throat, "What this meeting might have been about, might I ask?"

"You, of course," Gandalf replied.

"Me?" Thorin spluttered indignantly.

The wizard waved his arm calmly. "You and your quest. Beorn and his friends were debating whether or not your story was plausible by all evidence I could find." Gandalf explained. "I do believe it is our hosts tracks you can observe heading to the Misty Mountains."

"So he is a Goblin friend?" Nori questioned uncertainly.

"No, you fool!" Gandalf hissed, "Did you not listen when he told you of his hatred of Orc-kind?"

Nori muttered an apology and gazed forlorn into his porridge as the wizard continued.

"I believe our host should be back no later than the morning of the morrow, until then I suggest we all rest whilst we can and enjoy the ability to be comfortable; I fear we shall not have this luxury for a long time." Gandalf sounded both grave and cheery at the same time, an odd combination.

"So what would you like to do today?" I asked Kili, whose hand had crept to the small of my back.

Kili thought for a moment, "I think it would be a good time to talk about certain things." He replied ominously, "Alone." He looked pointedly to Fili.

"Okay," I agreed warily as he led me up a flight of stairs to the secluded hall above. I was terrified, was he about to tell me that last night was a mistake? I really hoped not, especially after the scene at breakfast and my conversation with Thorin.

He sat down and pulled me into his lap. Maybe he did not regret last night after all. Kili folded his arms around me and rested his head on my shoulder, neither of us spoke for a long moment.

I could not take the suspense, "Is everything okay, Kee?"

On my cheek I could feel the corner of his lips quirk upward, "Of course," He enthused, "Everything is perfect."

I smiled bemusedly, "You said we needed to talk though?"

"We do," He sighed, "I need to tell you a few things and ask a few other things."

"Then, go ahead, Kee." I encouraged.

He seemed to struggle a while to find words to verbalise his thoughts. "Well, as you may have guessed, I care a great deal about you, I just wondered if you…?" He trailed away.

"Yes," I replied, "I care for you more than I have anyone else." I told him honestly.

I heard his sigh of relief. "I am so happy to hear you say that." He chuckled, exulted. "But there are a few things you need to know before you decide whether or not I am worthy of your courtship."

"Okay," I urged for him to go on. Although I did think how ridiculous it was to me that he should think himself unworthy of me given that he was a prince.

"Firstly; I will never be king. Or at least I shouldn't be; Fili the heir to the throne of Durin." He told me.

"Good," Came my reply. "In my experience, I do not get along so well with kings."

Kili laughed, "It does not bother you?"

"Why should it? I liked you before I even found out you were a prince." I admitted.

He plucked up one of my hands and kissed my knuckles. "Good answer," he snickered. "Secondly, with Fili being in line for the throne, I am the one who is charged with producing an heir when the time comes. If that scares you, I understand."

I was slightly taken aback by that. The talk of children so soon was definitely petrifying. I would have run away screaming were it anyone other than him, but he was the only exception. "Not for a few years?"

"Oh, indeed, it is frowned upon for Dwarves to have children before marriage and early marriage is never encouraged, do not worry." Kili assured me.

That actually sounded desirable; to one day be married to this Dwarf and with little Dwarves running about the place sounded cute. "Is that something we can come back to when the time comes?" I enquired, echoing his words.

"Of course," Kili grinned, "It is merely the rules of Dwarven courtship to tell one's intended what they should expect should they choose to stay with a person." He explained.

"Alright," I agreed, relieved that I would not have to make the decision of children right this moment. "Anything else?"

"Just one more thing," He said, "I do not know the rules of Hobbit courtship, but we Dwarves symbolise it with a small braid in our hair. I only wondered if you would allow me to court you."

I giggled, "Of course, I would, if you would have me."

"I would have you forever and a day." He promised.

He combed his fingers through my hair, ridding it of ay tangles, and took a small section toward the front and began easily twisting it into a simple braid, his fingers flowing like water and tying the end with a piece of string. He looked remarkably pleased with himself once it was done.

Kili took my hands in his, "Now you do the same to me,"

Nervously I removed myself from his lap so as to see his hair better. I carefully unknotted his whole head before selecting a tiny lock to plait, I copied his movements as best I could and for the first time in a long while I had done a good looking braid. He handed me some string to tie it off with, I made sure it would take a lot to remove my knot.

Together, we sat in silence once more, enjoying each other without words nor looks, we simply sat side by side wasting the day away.

Come the next morning, Beorn had returned and he was certainly in good spirits. He had admitted to his disbelief and told us of his trip to the Misty Mountains and how he had howled with joy at the sight of the slaughtered Goblin King.

"My new friends, you should know what else I have discovered on my travels, though it is not good news." Beorn began, "The Orcs are furious at the destruction of their king. They are gathering as large an army as they can muster and they wage war on you, Thorin Oakenshield."

"That is, indeed, ill news." Thorin agreed.

"The only safe pass to Erebor travels through the forest of Mirkwood, though that in itself will be perilous." Our host advised. "The Elven path is still as safe a rout as can be found, but only if you stay to the path. Should you leave it, you will never find it again." He warned. "It is wise also, to avoid the river at all costs; the water will send you into a stupor at best, do not drink from it. And lastly, the animals there are dark and most likely not good to eat."

His warnings basically said that once we entered the forest, we had only what we took with us to eat and drink – hunting was out of the question. Somehow this 'safe' path seemed to me more dangerous by the minute.

"I will provide you all with food and water enough for your passage and my horses will take you as far as the forest edge, but no further. I would not risk them." This man must have really disliked Orcs to go so far in his efforts to help us and, by the sounds of it, we certainly needed as much help as we could get.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for any errors, I wanted to get this chapter out quickly and forgot to check. <strong>

**The song is The Only Exception by Paramore. **

**Basically, I needed to get my OC and Kili together to prepare for events three chapters away from now and this seemed like the only plausible place that it could happen. Sorry to anyone who feels it is a bit rushed. **


	11. Open Water

Beorn did as he had promised. When we left his abode, we were adorned with as much food and as many water skins as we could carry in our packs or on our backs. Those intelligent creatures that waited upon us during our stay were not the only horses in Beorn's possession; he had also many normal steeds of which he granted us fifteen to carry us to the eaves of Mirkwood.

From our hosts earlier warnings I had the strong notion that Mirkwood was like to be our biggest challenge thus far, though I would not impart such pessimism with my fellow companions; they did not need any of my pointless negativity right now.

We rode out before the sun had even properly risen, Thorin not wanting to waste a single moment once we were all of us packed and ready. The air was fresh and free as it pushed past us in our haste. Thorin had set a vigorous pace that all of us struggled to maintain at first, but our horses soon grew accustomed to their expected speed and fell into step with Thorin's easily enough.

The rushing winds made conversation invalid since none could hear a thing that the other said to them, and that did not matter all that much to me; we were passing through vast plains of grasslands that stretched further than I could ever have imagined. The emptiness made me feel both exposed and liberated at the same time; such openness simply did not exist in the Shire, our fields were miniscule in comparison and it was well-known that Hobbits were none too keen on open, exposed spaces – it made them feel vulnerable. I felt safer, such a space made me certain that any ambush would be spotted long before anyone had time to get to us, though if I had been alone I was not sure that I would feel quite so confident about that – it would also mean that no one for leagues would know of an attack should one occur and that would mean no help would come.

All too quickly the forest came into view, creeping closer ominously. It went on for what looked like leagues at either side, I could only imagine how long we would have to travel through such vast territory.

It was only just midday when we reached the eaves of Mirkwood. It was not difficult to see why the woods had such a name. The trees stood tall and proud, but their bark was grey and black, their leaves speckled with mud brown freckles. The Woods fell open like a curtain, framing a dark and dank path with gnarled and tangled branches eager to tear at clothes and flesh alike.

"Before us lies the path of the Elves," Gandalf informed us, "It will not guarantee your safety, but it is the only path that will not destroy you all with its overgrown evil, for the magic of the High Elves of Old still lives upon its trail."

"Could we not simply go around the forest?" Bilbo questioned naïvely.

Gandalf tittered, shaking his head. "Not unless you wish to travel three hundred leagues in that direction," He indicated the left side of the woods, "Or twice that the other way." He explained gesturing to the right.

"Sounds fun," I muttered under my breath. Going into a forest of 'overgrown evil' on a path that was not necessarily entirely safe was not my idea of a good time.

"Yes," Kili intoned, his breath flowing into the shell of my ear, "Sounds delightful."

I giggled quietly.

Gandalf took no notice of us, though I am sure he heard us; he had near Elf-like hearing sometimes. "You shall leave the ponies hear as a show of good will to our friend and former host." He ordered.

"If we must do this to keep an ally, then so it shall be done." Thorin grunted, clearly regretting his promise to return the creatures. In all honesty, I could not see what benefit it would do us to take them with us, surely they would only slow us down; with their hooves getting snarled in twigs and us having to duck branches whilst we sat upon them.

I swung myself down, perhaps not as gracefully as I had intended, for I stumbled a little ways into Fili as he dismounted. He supressed a peel of mirth as he steadied me, possibly because the look I gifted him with plainly said: laugh and die.

I sighed heavily as I shouldered my pack, already it was heavy; the few days of rest combined with the lack of supplies beforehand had left me once more unused to carrying great loads. Sucking in a breath, I prepared to wear this burden for as long as I could; after all, a heavy bag was a full bag and a full bag meant there were plenty of supplies. Around me a few others seemed to stagger slightly under the weight of their possessions which eased my thoughts considerably, however, some held their loads so easily it appeared as though their bags were filled with naught but feathers. Of course, Kili was one of those somewhat infuriatingly annoying people, though I said no such thing to him.

As soon as everyone had dismounted, the animals set off in a hardy trot back the way they had come, their manes flowing faster than seemed proper for their speed, but was beautiful all the same.

"With that done," Gandalf began, it had not gone unnoticed that he had not left the back of his horse and for that Thorin eyed him suspiciously, "I must bid you all a very fond farewell."

"You're leaving?" Bilbo cried incredulously, like the rest of us it seemed the Hobbit did not see a way through this wood without our handy wizard.

Gandalf nodded solemnly, "I am afraid I must, master Baggins," The wizard affirmed. "There is some pressing business to the South to which I must attend."

Thorin's brows were dark clouds above stormy eyes, "You would desert us now? In our hour of need?" He growled, the tempest awoken in his words.

"I wish it were not so, but there are greater needs of my assistance than yours at this time." The old man scolded. "I will, however, return when I am able."

The Dwarf-leader recoiled in outrage, but stayed silent; he knew better than to get on the wrong side of a wizard and the promise of a return muted some of the betrayal inside him.

"Now, I fear it is good bye to you all for a short while," Gandalf announced. "Be good, take care of yourselves – and don't leave the path!" He finished with a pointed look at Fili, Kili and I, evidently the wizard thought us to be the most reckless of our company.

Before any of us could even begin to complain or protest his absence, he gave his horse a firm prod with his toe and was sent hurtling away due south from us. I would never have said so, but the absence of our wizard had already begun to make me feel slightly uneasy and the prospect of entering Mirkwood still did not appeal to me all that much.

"Well then," Thorin called gruffly, "We ought not to stand about."

Fili nodded, "Indeed. The sooner we go in, the sooner we get out." He affirmed. I hoped to the Valar that he would be right.

Once I passed under the very first eaves a cold sickness leeched the very air from my lungs, it was a few moments before I was able to regain some semblance of a normal breathing pattern. The mist clung to the skin, heavy air ripe with misery seeped through to my core. How could anything enjoy living here? Trees swayed despite the lack of any wind at all, in fact the only thing that stirred the air was our own movement. All at once the wood was quiet and yet filled with the whispers of a thousand souls. I hated it and I had not been inside the wood for more than five minutes.

The trees felt too close together, stiff and silent and yet they seemed to shimmer and shuffle on voiceless mutterings. The path was nothing more than a few cobblestones every few steps to keep you in the right direction; for an Elven path I would have expected it to have been something much grander – Elrond's paths would never have been so decaying, of that I was sure. Perhaps the Elves that had forged this path were of a different sort entirely. Whatever they were, I hoped we did not have the pleasure of meeting them.

In going further down the small path, we agreed to travel in threes, there being fifteen of us. I was at the rear with my usual pair. The youngest brothers did their utmost to pretend that they were unaffected by the stuffy closeness of the forest, but the way Kili held onto my hand and how Fili would peek behind him far more than he would anywhere else told me different. There was an uncomfortable vibe in this place and I was certain that the others all felt it too. Amongst the Company, there was no playful banter, no cheerful singing, and no good-natured conversation. Only the sound of our footfalls and the occasional sigh could be heard from us.

Secretly, I was glad of Kili's hand in mine; it steadied me more than any words could have and as soon as he had offered it to me I had clutched it gratefully. There was something comforting in the way that I could feel his heart rate through his palm, strong and calm, that forced me to try and make my own match his.

The deeper we ventured, the more uneasy I felt. There was nothing tangible to blame; it was pitch black almost, but I was not afraid of the dark; the trees determined that we would walk closer together than was normal, but I was not claustrophobic. This place strongly reminded me of the Old Forest, except the Old Forest somehow had a remnant of the Shire's charm about it. This forest was wild and angry.

It was on the second night that something out of the usual happened. By this point we had gone far enough so as to hear the small creatures that littered the forest, though we saw no more of them than their tiny shadows. Their chittering and snuffling was louder than I would have given to their size, and I wondered how they could possibly survive in this place; I had seen no trees that bore anything but mouldering berries and I had yet to spot any water source at all – though through the dense murk of Mirkwood, I was not all too surprised.

We had all unrolled our meagre bedding and were settling down for the night. Thorin was once again on watch; it was as though this strange surrounding made him unable to sleep and even sit comfortably for he always had a twitch of caution in his eyes. I was almost asleep by Kili's side when the leader shook Kili awake and made the gesture of silence with his forefinger pressed to his lips.

"Shh," He whispered to the sleep addled Kili. He looked pointedly to his left.

I followed his gaze to where a rustling disturbed the brush. Before I could even register what it could mean, Kili had reacted decisively. Kili's arrow had stilled the rustler in less time than it had took me to think a bow could be useful. He set down his bow, and I realised he had been sleeping with it above our heads; in easy reach should he need it. I had never seen Kili sleep with his bow so close, it made me wonder when he had decided he needed to protect himself so fiercely; his bow had always been in easy reach, but never so accessible. Perhaps it was the discomfort of this place inhabiting itself in his actions.

Without a word, the youngest Dwarf rose, lightly pressing down on my shoulder when I made to follow and shaking his head. He drew out his knife that hung on his belt, again, something I had not seen him sleep with before. Kili plunged his hand into the brush, his knife ready, and plucked out the offending beast: a small, charcoal-furred critter, something akin to a demonic-looking squirrel.

"We should cook it!" Bombur exclaimed.

By now the rest of the camp had awoken, I do not know whether it was the sound of the arrow or some kind of mutual Dwarven sense of possible danger; or in Bombur's case, the prospect of meat. We had discovered that any meat we brought with us soon went bad in this forest.

The Dwarves went about doing what they did best in times of trouble, they cooked the creature as per Bombur's suggestion. Though the meat smelled pleasant enough once Bofur had seen to it, the colour of the brown flesh did not appeal to me, I insisted that Kili take my share whilst I nibbled of the last portion of my stale bread.

Ori eagerly took a huge mouthful of his share, chewing happily until he happened to taste the meat. He hurriedly spat chunks to the ground spluttering and coughing in an attempt to rid the vile taste from his tongue. Not many others bothered to taste the grisly flesh after that. Even Bombur could not stomach the taste. Maybe Beorn's warning of the animals being dark and not good to eat were correct; this creature seemed harmless enough and yet it certainly was not a palatable food source. We would not be eating meat again until we got to Erebor by the looks of it. That did not faze me too much, for we still had a few rations of vegetables and rice left which should last a day or two more.

It was not so easy to sleep after that. The sound of roiling stomachs was rife about camp and I am certain I heard poor Bilbo retching until the early hours; him having taken nearly as big a bite of his piece of meat as Ori had. Hobbits are seldom made ill by food and so this flesh must have been particularly potent to disagree with Bilbo so much. Once again, I was pleased with my decision to avoid it. Despite Kili's positively green countenance, he feigned immunity to whatever was wrong with the food and insisted that we settle down as we had done.

Laid with my back to his stomach and his arms cradling me, I could feel every roll of his insides as the mouthfuls he had scoffed without tasting lingered within. I felt a little sorry for him, but if he had listened to me when I had declined the foul food he would have been perfectly fine.

Travelling the next morning was slow, laborious business. Those who had dared to try last night's supper were indeed suffering, their mouths were dry and ashen and their spirits considerably lowered.

"Are you certain you are quite right, Kee?" I pestered a still peaky-looking Kili.

He nodded, "Of course," He dismissed, patting my shoulder, "Takes more than a bit of bad grub to stop me."

I giggled, he was clearly bluffing, but I did not call him out on it; he would only have grumbled and that was the last thing I would want, especially in this miserable wood.

He paused slightly, as though caught off guard, I rose my eyebrow in questioning. "It's good," He explained, "To hear you laugh. I forgot how nice it sounded."

I blushed lightly, "Well, it's the first time I've felt like doing anything other than frowning since we entered the forest."

"So it is not only me that has noticed that?" He pondered, "There must be some strange magic over this place."

I bobbed my head, I knew what he meant; there was no natural explanation as to why a forest could possibly feel so unwelcoming. The trees of the Old Forest were nothing compared to those of Mirkwood. According to the Old Took, the trees of the Old Forest were alive because of the Elves that used to live there an Age ago; they spoke to the trees, softly and beautifully, until the first tree spoke back. Perhaps that is what happened here, though the thought sent another shudder through me; if it was Elves once more, then I was right earlier, these Elves were certainly an entirely different breed to the ones I had come across previously. These Elves would be dangerous to cross, I hoped again that we would not cross paths with them.

We all walked in silence as usual. Kili had his bow in hand, as he had ever since the rustler. It worried me a little to see him so on edge, but I suppose we all were. None of us had slept all that much and we were running out of food faster than I thought we would. The close air of the woods made all of us tired and grumpy, I even felt confused – though what about, I could not guess.

It was not all that long before we came across something I had been dreading. A river. Or rather_ the_ river. It cut right across our path and dimly, through the dusky light, I could make out the rest of the path on the other side, though that was no use to us; the river was too wide to cross without being in the water and I had a feeling from Beorn's warnings that that would be a horrible idea.

"We need to cross." Thorin asserted, stating the obvious.

"Is that a boat?" Fili asked, squinting into the distance.

Sure enough, there was a small, wooden dingy at the opposite side of the river, still as though it were on land as opposed to water. Looking closely at the river I saw that it was as unmoving as a frozen lake, somehow that unnerved me more than it should have; it seemed unnatural to me for a river not to be flowing.

Ori piped up a suggestion. "I have a rope," He began, "If we had some sort of hook, we could throw it and drag the boat over here."

The Company nodded slowly, it seemed a good idea, and there was just one flaw. "It is an awful long way." I put in, "Is anyone here even able to throw something that far?"

My questions only brought grimaces, it was apparent that no one really thought themselves up to the task. After all, the boat was a good thirty feet away at least.

"I can do it." Came the familiar confidence of the youngest Dwarf, the stubborn effect of the forest disappearing momentarily. "I have thrown things further, have I not, Fili?"

"You have, brother, but this is important." The blond reminded uncertainly.

I had no doubt that, ordinarily, Kili would have been more than able to do as we needed, and yet I feared that the smothering dullness of the wood would somewhat lessen his abilities.

Thorin handed Kili a small axe that had been tied to the end of the rope, "You can try, young one, but do not expect to succeed."

Great. Now Kili was bound to doubt himself. I placed a hand on his shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. "You can do it." I whispered in his ear, gifting him with a peck on the cheek.

He held the rope firmly in hand and swung the axe a few times in a wide circle, building up a momentum that tugged the rope taught in his palms. With a low grunt, he released and the axe went sailing through the air. It grazed the bow of the small vessel, scratching the wood lightly.

Without a comment, Kili swiftly hauled the rope back as fast as he possibly could. He was visibly frustrated, but no one spoke. I could see Thorin eyeing his youngest nephew with both wonder at his confidence and disappointment in his abilities. Surely, if Kili had come that close to the boat, he could hit it directly?

Once more Kili swung the rope laden axe and threw it. Much too quickly. The axe landed behind the boat, further than necessary. The Dwarf was now shaking with barely contained anger. Something about this wood brought out an intensity in Kili that I was not sure I liked. Normally, he would have shaken something like this off with a laugh and a joke, but now his eyes were ablaze and he was struggling to drag the axe back through the murky waters.

He needed calming down desperately. I placed my hands over his and silently worked the rope back to us in time with him. Even in doing so, I could feel his hands starting to relax, the muscled clenching less tightly. When he had the rope back in his grasp, I rubbed soothing circles upon the back of his hands and he closed his eyes. His entire stance became his own once again, he was no longer the rigid, stoic stranger.

"This time." I promised in a whisper, knowing he would get my meaning.

Kili nodded, his eyes still shut against the world. He took a few steadying breaths as I inched away, for a moment he looked a little lost at the lack of contact, but he regained his composure and opened his eyes. He did not let his scrutiny diverge from the boat, forgetting everything else around him, he launched all of his attention onto the tiny target.

One final time, Kili raised his arms, swinging the rope with greater force than was probably required, and flung the axe out to the other side of the river. The object flew as though guided by the hands of the Valar, possibly Mahal himself for all I could tell. It landed, as you might have guessed, perfectly lodged into the prow of the boat.

Immediately, the Dwarves converged in celebration, clapping Kili on the back and shouting hysterical congratulations' that I could not understand because either they were speaking too fast or in their native Khuzdul; Bilbo gave the young Dwarf a firm handshake and a polite "Well done, good fellow."

I settled for waiting until the enormity of what he had just accomplished settle upon him, until his eyes finally fell upon me. Dark eyes filled with the delight and wonder that made me feel strangely warm inside and a smidge nervous, though I knew not why.

I beamed back at him as he made his way towards me, ecstasy and determination etched onto his visage. He took me gently into his arms, securing me against him, and leaned down to my face, pressing his lips against my own with an unfamiliar, but not unwelcome, ferocity that held me in place better than his palms ever could. This was not the soft, chaste kiss of the other night at Beorn's, but a hard and assertive assault of the senses. I was gasping for air within seconds, a thing that Kili only took advantage of. His tongue slid inside my mouth, probing and exploring wherever it could reach. I had no idea what I was to do – I had never shared a kiss like the first and was certainly at a loss with one such as this. I need not have worried, my instincts took over and my tongue mirrored his, moving fluidly as though it were just another part of Kili.

Speaking of other parts of Kili, his hands pressed the small of my back, pushing me flush against him. Needless to say, it was not merely his arms that I could feel. Evidently Kili had noticed a certain protrusion too, he pulled away slightly, a sheepish smile gracing his features. It was adorable that he should be embarrassed by such a thing, especially with me, though I wondered if he, too, had remembered that we were not alone, but surrounded by many now shocked Dwarves and a thoroughly mortified Bilbo. The look on my cousin's face told me plainly that we were to have words about this.

We broke apart, Kili keeping an arm around me and placing me just ahead of him, in an effort to cover himself. That was our first real kiss in front of the Company and I was not sure if I would have preferred it to have gone slightly less passionately, they did not really need to have seen that, and yet I could not truthfully say that I was all too sorry about it. Besides, a few of the younger Dwarves were regarding Kili with an awe that I had not seen from them previously. Thorin, on the other hand, did not appear impressed in the slightest; the stare he granted me was filled only with disgust, as though I had been the one to initiate such a vulgar display. Great, and I thought he and I were starting to get along.

Thankfully, Fili decided to detract the attention away from us by heaving the vessel across the black waters. Others slowly began to join him and soon enough all but Thorin had forgotten that little incident and were chattering about how best to go about crossing.

"We should see how many of us can actually fit inside the boat." Fili advised, it seemed a reasonable enough idea to me.

"Very well," Thorin agreed. "Ori, you first." He ordered.

One by one, he added another Dwarf, until – "Hold it!" Cried Oin. "The old thing will take no more."

Our experiment had proven that our little boat would take no more than four. We would have to go back and forth between each bank about five times. I could already see Bilbo's discomfort. The Baggins inside him was fighting hard against his Tookish nature; most Hobbits feared and distrusted water and boats, none more so than the Bagginses, and anyone who ventured into rivers or ponds deserved whatever end they met in their opinion, it was only the Tooks and Brandybucks that ever used boats these days and the only real river we had in the Shire was the Brandywine. His Tookish courage and need for adventure seemed to be having a mighty fight, the Hobbit twirled his handkerchief – Beorn had been kind enough to gift him with one – betwixt his fingers nervously.

First to cross the river was Ori, Nori, Dori and Bofur; the latter would be the one to row the boat back to us. Next went Bofur, Bifur, Dwalin and Balin with Dwalin returning and so on. It was decided that, as Bombur would be the heaviest load, he should go last with the two remaining lightest beings, those beings being Bilbo and myself.

Bilbo was made to paddle his way back once he, Fili, Kili and Thorin were on the opposite bank, safe and dry. It took the little fellow rather a long time to get back to Bombur and I, he had been muttering furiously the whole way, only when he had gotten closer could we hear his ramblings.

"…Nasty terrible things, adventures, make you late for dinner. Really, when does one ever feel the need to cross water that could potentially kill us all? All rivers are as bad as each other, it's a great wonder no one had yet drowned." The boat wriggled, "Aaargh! This surely cannot be safe. Never again will I cross so much as a puddle!"

"Calm down, dear cousin!" I called, "The more you complain, the more you will disturb the boat!"

Bilbo simply huffed and resumed his mumbling, he was more scared than angry; I could tell by the slight scrunch of his nose and height of his brow. The Hobbit bumped the boat along our shore. I held the boat steady as Bombur clamoured in, it would have been far more difficult to squeeze him in once I was already seated. I then followed, making sure that I did not so much as touch the rippling waters as I climbed into the gently swaying boat.

It was a much faster journey getting across with Bombur and I rowing as opposed to Bilbo, even with Bilbo's whimpering as Bombur's movements rocked our vessel. It would have been amusing to see Bilbo in such a freight, but I understood his mistrust of water; it would have even been amplified by the warnings Beorn had given of these treacherous waters. His incessant ramblings continued in much the same vein as before, only now they sounded a little more frantic; perhaps our speed disconcerted him as well. Nevertheless, it was quieter than before, which also meant that he was more afraid; after all, a child will not scream at their most deepest and darkest of fears, for they are too scared to utter a single sound.

Our dingy soon hit our destination and Kili all but tripped over himself to help me put my feet on dry land. Unfortunately for the boat's final occupant, Fili was also helping Bilbo flee from the river. The sudden removal of all the balancing weight made it so as the boat began to tip and tip rapidly. The vessel was overturning and poor Bombur knew not what to do and so did the first thing to cross his mind. He grabbed me. A great splashing crash echoed about me. Bombur. He was in the river. Beorn had explicitly said not to touch it and now Bombur was submerged and still pulling. No matter how hard I struggled, there was no getting away from Bombur's grasp. My fate was utterly and undeniably sealed; I was going to fall.

I could feel my hand slipping from Kili's, see the horror in his eyes, hear the air rushing past my ears and all of that before I realised I was falling backwards. The force of Bombur's pulling slackened as I felt my back break the surface of the oily river. A cold powered through me, penetrating my skin right to the very bones of my being; it felt like there was ice replacing the marrow, replacing my pulse. I was so very cold and unbelievably soaked. I may as well have fallen into open water for all the good kicking and spluttering did me, I thrashed as much as I possibly could – until the waters froze my limbs into place and stilled my breathing. Within moments the water spread like a skin over my face and I could see nothing, hear nothing, nothing at all but the same words repeated inside my head over and over again as the blackness sprouted inky shapes before my closed lidded eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>Open Water - Bless The Fall<strong>

**Sorry for the late update, I had some personal stuff to deal with. **


	12. Light the Way

_Shifting, unfamiliar shapes morphed and evolved before my eyes for what seemed to be forever until the mists finally moulded themselves into things I recognised. Trees. Endless trees. I was certainly sick of the sight of those gnarled trunks and their weeping, sickly leaves drooping down off of crippled branches. The whole forest was ill, terribly so. These trees shifted more than they had before I had fallen into the river. _

_The winds whispered, their words growing harsher by the moment. I took a step forward. Each time I made a movement, the woods seemed to creep closer, the unmoving roots edging nearer to my tiny feet. Voices climbed higher into the boughs, like the rushing of water. _

_Morn an vennag._

_Ceaseless hissing of unfamiliar languages. I could recognise snippets of Elvish and the Common Tongue, but something else too, something coarser. Perhaps the water was sending me deep into madness, after all; trees could not talk. I knew that was not entirely true; it was spoken of amongst Hobbits that the wood of the Old Forest was gifted with speech, taught words and wisdom by the High Elves of old. The Old Forest was sure to be a thousand leagues from this sinister kin, there was no shred of goodness to be felt in the too-close air of this wood. I guessed that I was still in the realm of Mirkwood and I prayed to be out of it soon. _

_About me real voices rose and weaved their way to me. Melodic voices; singing in sweet Sindarin. It was not alike to the singers of Rivendell, their tones had been gentle and soft, this was a darker sound; full of mischief and malice. Nonetheless, it was a welcome change from the whispering wood. _

_Morn an vennag._

I was awake, back on dry land, coughing and spluttering half the river from my lungs. I could barely keep my eyes open, the only face I could see was that of Kili. He was muttering something incomprehensible to me, lifting me into a sitting position.

Dimly, I recognised Bombur laid on is back behind Fili and Kili who were crowding me in my muddled confusion. I was sodden and cold, but poor Bombur looked even more so. He sprung to life, his great gut heaving as he forced himself to dredge the rivers water from within him.

Kili pushed back some of the hair that clung to my face in damp tendrils, to me each piece looked like twinned rope winding its way down. Distractedly, I mused that it would probably take an age to disentangle my locks in this state.

I made to say thank you, but three other words escaped my mouth, flowing from my tongue in tide of unstoppable phonemes that I had never heard myself utter before. Kili gave his brother a concerned glance, shifting his eyes back to me as though I had done something incredibly worrying. How could three tiny words have such a negative effect?

_Morn an vennag. _

_Back in the forest, but there was something different; I was not alone. In the shadows there was movement, flecked with light; a shining light, unlike that of torch glare, unlike that of fire, this was something magical, dangerous. That is where the voices were coming from, I was sure of it. The trees were less dense there, there must be some sort of clearing. Something inside me screamed that I should go to them, to seek help for I understood that I was completely lost in this forest. _

_Another voice, somewhat calmer and more reasoned, advised against rushing to them. The voices whisper _danger, the light cannot be natural, you must run from them,_ the cautious side of my mind urged. It seemed that my instincts were not to be entirely trusted. If I ran to these people – these creatures – they may not be as friendly as I. However, they may be the only beings I come across in this place. Perhaps, that way is best, the grown up side of me rationalised. I agreed, if I saw no one before getting out of this forest then at least I would not be attacked. _

_I turned from the lights a giggle following in my wake. The laughter filled the atmosphere around me, but I began to walk, swiftly making my way away from the lights and laughter that seemed to always be on my tail. I broke out into a run, the ground feeling oddly soft to my feet. _

Kili shook me gently and I peeled back my eyelids.

"You're awake!" He exulted, he looked exhausted and it had not been that long since I last woke. Had it? His eyes were ringed red and shadows were beginning to bloom beneath them, but his smile was still as bright as ever, though he could not rid himself from the worried expression that lingered.

I nodded, not wanting my lips to spill those three words again, I could feel them bubbling up at the back of my throat and swallowed as though they were bile; they tasted just as sour.

"Are you well?" Fili pressed, beside his brother he seemed smaller somehow even though he was the elder of the two. He looked shrunken in a way I could not quite grasp, or perhaps it was purely due to my only wanting to focus on Kili, only able to pay attention to one thing at a time. My head pounded with the mere thought of contemplating two things at once.

Again, I bobbed my head in response to the fading blond brother. Though I tried to look at him properly, he blurred from my vision. My eyes were surely broken, whenever I tried to stare at something that was not Kili my vision crumbled until it found his face once more. The whole world appeared to be shuddering tremendously and yet no one was bothering to panic about it.

Kili shifted me as gently as a father would a sleeping child, lifting me partially so as to rest me sitting upright against a tree trunk.

"Vey?" My eyes were rolling, searching madly for him and only him. "You look pale." He told me bluntly. I shrugged. Well really, what could I possibly do to stop from being pale? "And you're shaking."

Now_ that_ I had not noticed, but now the reason my line of sight kept wobbling made some sense at least. I tried as hard as I could to halt the tremors, but they just could not leave my body. I was not cold, not really, and yet I was shaking like a leaf. I did not understand it. That did not matter for all that long in any case, slowly my eyes drifted shut again and I heard no more of Kili's concerned remarks.

_Morn an vennag. _

_Back in the woods. I ran as though my life depended on it and something about the eerie singing and giggling that dogged my steps hinted that that might just be the case in this circumstance. I had no idea to where I was running or what I could be running from, but the further away from the lights I travelled the lighter my heart felt and the easier my breath came to me. _

_I thought there was the sound of birds close by, any noise was welcome in my mind – animals meant an escape from this sickened forest. There was something else too; a gentle, rolling ripple. Water. I hoped I was not coming back to the river, though if it were flowing as it sounded to be then maybe it would show me the way out of this horrible darkness. _

_Morn an vennag. _

_The woods all seemed the same from one tree to another and yet they all were different; each one seemed to have its own aura and as I went along, they grew brighter, less hateful. To my dismay I came at last to the very thing I had hoped not to; the river that had gotten me here in the first place. _

_The waters looked oily and full of hidden things hoping to drag one underneath the surface never to tread on land again. The laughter was faint now, but the very presence of it still unnerved me, I wanted to be rid of it as soon as possible; it made my skin crawl. _

_Morn an vennag. _

_I had to make a decision once again. Do I turn around and try a different way out or do I follow the river and see where it emerges no matter how far that might be? If I tried another direction I might find and exit sooner, but if I follow the river I am guaranteed a way out at some point, or so I hoped. _

_Morn an vennag. _

_The way of the river it is then, at least the bubbling of the stream would drown out some of the mirthless laughter following me. _

_Morn an vennag. _

_The whispers of the trees were louder as I marched along the river bank, too tired to keep running. _

_Morn an vennag._

_I did not understand their words, they were unlike anything I knew and yet there was something of a familiar twang to their sound, perhaps something in the accent or the way each syllable fell into place with the next, which felt as though I should know their meaning, as though they were a part of who I was. _

_Morn an vennag._

I could hear Bombur's ramblings as my eyes opened.

".. and there was the most delicious ham you have ever tasted and the wine, the wine! It was exquisite! Better than any the Blue Mountains have seen..." He went on this way for some time, but I took no notice, instead I was drawn to the conversation nearest to me.

"You think she'll be alright?" The dark brother asked with his back to me.

The blond replied tiredly, as though he had said it a million times already. "Of course she will, Bombur's coming round more and she shall follow."

"I'm sick of his talk of food," Kili complained, "We are starving already!"

"I would rather Veyra talked of food, instead of…"

Talking? I have never talked in my sleep before, have I? I did not think so, but then again I would not know what happened when I slept.

Kili sighed, "As would I, my brother." His shoulders slumped. "I would rather she would speak of anything else. I cannot imagine why she mutters such darkness, that river was ill indeed to have poisoned her mind so."

"Things will be better when she wakes like Bombur." Fili promised. He did not seem altogether sure of that though, from the way heaved a dragging sigh at the end, I could tell that he was hoping as much as he was assuring.

"Fili, how does she even know those words?" Kili pleaded, desperation heavy in his tone.

Fili shrugged his sagging shoulders, "I know not how, I have never taught her such things."

"I don't like it. " Kili complained, "Bombur is fine now, why does she still sleep?" He sounded pained. I wished I could speak to him, explain that I am awake, that I am fine.

I would have, if I had not been dragged back into slumber.

_The air was clearing, somehow if felt lighter, as though some of the stuffy closeness was dissipating. I felt I could actually breathe properly for the first time since I had entered Mirkwood. It did not taste as stale as it had done – in fact it tasted fresh and… green. _

_I even fantasised that I could hear a breeze, an actual breeze, unobstructed by trees or brush. A wind flowing over open air. Perhaps I was delirious; I had not eaten or drank anything in what felt like days. _

_Morn an vennag. _

_Following the river as it widened, everything grew brighter; there bloomed colour in places I had yet to have seen in this forest. The leaves were a burnt orange, the bushes lusciously green and bearing maroon and scarlet berries the size of my thumb nail. _

_And then I could hear it. The lapping of water over mud, soft and squelching. Liquid dragging itself over the soggy soils. This was no river roiling, this was a much larger body of water I could hear, one that rippled freely. _

_As fast as my body would permit, I raced toward the sound. Branches and twigs snarled and tore at my clothes and skin, scratching at my arms and face, but it did not matter; something deep inside me told me that I had to find the source of such a sound._

_Morn an vennag. _

_There! I could see it! Through the final few trees. The mud addled bank of a lake. A ginormous lake, I could not even see the other bank. The blue-green waters were nothing like the dull hues of the woods, they were startlingly bright, almost too vivid for my eyes to adjust to after so long in shadow. The sun bore down powerfully, it pained me but I made myself look at it; into the azure sky and out into the distance. _

_There was only one thing between the lake and the sky; a mountain. It had to be _the_ mountain, The Lonely Mountain. It was far beyond any scale I could have imagined and yet I felt it should not be so huge, not from this far away anyhow. _

_Morn an vennag. _

_The lake was not empty though. A shabby oaken vessel floated lazily against the shore. _

_Morn an vennag. _

_Its deck had been crammed with empty barrels and its sail hung limply from its mast. _

_Morn an vennag. _

_A shadow-laden figure of a sturdy gentleman held out a hand, reaching from the boats unadorned prow. _

_"__Morn an vennag." Hummed a warning voice that I felt I should be familiar with, but I just could not place it. _

"…You know we cannot keep carrying her like this." Came the gruff tones of none other than Thorin Oakenshield.

I noticed the slight rocking sensation and the feeling to being trapped – not in a bad way – by arms, clutching me so a sturdy chest. My clothes were dry now and I was actually warm, someone had probably given me a blanket, probably Kili. Come to think of it, that had to be who carried me, I doubt he would have tolerated anyone else doing so.

Sure enough, when a reply came, it was Kili who spoke up. "I am not leaving her behind with any of you. If you want to abandon her, then I stay too."

The leader sighed deeply, "We should never have brought her in the first place. She is a burden." He grumbled.

"She was no burden when she figured out the map, nor when she helped you lead." Kili argued.

But I am a burden now, I wanted to say. I tried to open my eyes or to move in some way, but I could not. All I was capable of is laying limply in Kili's hold whilst we travelled to wherever Thorin had decided.

Thorin grunted, "If you are so determined to waste your own energies then so be it."

"She's not gone yet, Uncle." The youngest Dwarf assured, somewhat less certainly than he may have liked to.

Is that what they thought? That I was going to die? Maybe they ae right. I could not speak, move nor see – I may as well have died for all the influence I had on the things going on around me.

I could hear the Elven singing again, although this time I was sure I was awake; everything felt heavy again – the true weight of reality.

"There it is!" Nori exclaimed delightedly. I could not imagine being delighted by such eerie noise, something about the soft, sinister song chilled my souls and tightened my stomach with tendrils of terror. The sound could only bode ill.

My eyes, still, would not grant me the benefit of opening and relieving me from the lonely blackness, although it did allow my other senses the leeway they needed; the way the air shifted against my skin, growing colder and heavier, told me that we must surely be going uphill and the heightening of the Elf-song made me sure that someone had decided to seek out the music.

"I wish I were back at that golden table!" Bombur complained childishly, apparently he was able to walk and talk, unlike myself. "I'm so hungry! Even if it was a dream, the food was sweet and plenty! We ought never to have left Beorn's house! He had food and we are starving! I wish-"

"Enough whining!"

All movement stopped and a startled gasp ran through the Company; Kili's arms were rigid beneath me.

"Vey?" He ventured gingerly.

"Kili," I responded, for it was I who had spoken – my silence finally at an end and I found at once that I was able also to peel back my eyelids and blink into the muted green glare. The dark brother's eyes were brimming with anxiety where as I was well-used to seeing joy.

Fili chuckled, "Well, it seems Bombur's whinging has the power to raise anyone!" He was trying to lighten his brother's spirits, that much was obvious, but alas it seemed not to work.

Kili's frown deepened with worry, it seemed as though my sudden wakefulness unsettled him more so than my slumber had done. Tiny creases dwelled at the corners of his eyes, surely I would have noticed them at some point – they were entirely new to me; as were the lines marring his forehead. I wondered if my… episode had affected his ageing, he appeared for the first time to be as old as the rest of the Company. This most certainly disconcerted me, I would give anything to have him smiling instead of staring at me like I had risen from the dead.

Thorin, however, was not in the least deterred. "We cannot waste time," He grunted, "We are still no closer to these creatures than we were this morning. We press on."

The Company did as told and I was set down to use my own legs, the youngest Dwarf persisting in his sidelong glances. The only person who seemed to be in the mood for conversation was Bilbo, whom he sidled up beside me as soon as we began to move.

"What exactly are we looking for?" I questioned, knowing I would not like the answer, but needing to hear it all the same.

"Elves." Bilbo replied solemnly. "They appear every now and then; all having feasts and singing, but their lights blow out whenever I get too close."

I blanched, "You get close?" I asked, I would not be fond of this answer either I imagined.

"Yes," Bilbo told me, without a comment on the suddenly livid expression I now donned, "Thorin thought it best that I should investigate, me being small and quiet."

I could not believe the nerve of the Dwarven-leader, especially after the Troll incident. Was it not evident that sending a Hobbit alone is not only reckless, but highly useless? My cousin had not the natural instincts and reflexes for such vigilante infiltration. Despite my anger the only words I let slip through gritted teeth were: "He should not have done that."

Bilbo sighed, "I worried you might say something of that thought, but do not fear – they saw me and left, that is all."

"Then perhaps we should leave them be." I suggested none too hopefully, I knew I could not change Thorin's mind once it had been set on a task. Even if I told him what I saw in my dreams it would only unnerve the men; nothing brought about trouble more than people who thought they could see into the future. Besides, if I were wrong I would look extremely foolish; however, if I were right, the Company would think me queer and dangerous at the very least.

Bilbo sensed my unease, "Ah, dear cousin! Do not fret! You shall be quite safe, after all Elves are gentle beings, remember Elrond?"

I nodded, my doubts not even slightly quelled, I feared they would well up inside me until I burst; but I refused to voice them.

We walked for so long following the Elven music that I could have easily believed we had passed into the Fourth Age, before the lights peeked into view. Small sparks, no bigger than a leaf, flickering into life and then disappearing, only to leap to a spot a few feet away. They were few at first, but the closer we came, the more there shone and the larger the clustered beams.

Thorin silently sent an order rippling through the Company with just a flick of his hand, if it were not for Kili halting me with a palm laid upon my shoulder I would have ploughed straight into the back of Nori whilst the rest of them froze at the command. The only noises about me were the Dwarven breathing I had come to know well and the heavenly voices that I hoped never to hear again.

The Dwarf-leader motioned for us to stay where we stood, gesturing with another hand signal that he was to go forth first; evidently he believed that the Elves would take to him, King Under the Mountain, than they did to a lowly Shireling. He did not voice it, but it was clear in his eyes that he thought Bilbo's low standing was the reason behind the Elves annoyance of their feasting being intruded upon, though I doubted that very much. These Elves did not appear to me to be at all alike to their kin in Rivendell and I had yet to meet them properly. Really, any beings that should choose to live in such a horrid place must be an equally horrible sort indeed; after all a habitat this unpleasant could only breed further nastiness.

Thorin sauntered almost excitedly toward the ever-shifting rays of golden light, his face cast with pits of black that fled from wherever the light touched his skin, a constant chase of brightness and blackness and none seemed to be triumphant. His back straightened, an unconscious decision to demonstrate power, as he braced himself for his descent into the blinding clearing.

Briefly I caught a glimpse of perhaps twenty Elves; all laughing gaily at some joke I should never know, eating their fill of a delightful spread and spilling far more mead than they drank as they danced under enchanted lanterns around a luxurious marble table. They were queer things; unlike the glorious fashions of Rivendell, all of these Elves wore leather armour of only shades of green and brown, most of them had their hair tied back from their faces in intricate braids paired with features too sharp to be considered beautiful and yet too striking to be considered anything else. They had an irrational and wild nature about them, I was in no doubt as to it being these creatures that brought the trees into such a foul demeanour.

The very moment Thorin stepped into the glow all heads swung toward him, their expressions ranging from shock and bewilderment, to anger, to pure hatred. Their singing finally ceased but they were definitely not inclined to listen to anything that Thorin could possibly have to say to them. He would certainly not be amused by that in any way.

All at once I both saw this and it vanished, the clearing plunged into black, all light extinguished to make it darker than it had been previous to the Elf-light. Their laughter hanging in the air like a scorn.

"Thorin?" Balin called, to no reply.

"Uncle?" Came Fili's uncertain inquiry.

"Oakenshield!" Dwalin cried, "You better not have deserted us!" He was only using false fury, but his voice creaked and cracked under the strain of anxiety.

Kili took my hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze, though I was not too sure whether he intended to comfort me and show that things were going to be fine or to reassure himself that I had not disappeared too.

It was only then that I truly realised how lost we would really be without our leader.

* * *

><p><strong>Light the Way - All Time Low <strong>


	13. Rescue Me

"Head count!" Someone ordered, it was too dark to see just who it could be. The lights were gone and our eyes had yet to adjust once more to the greenish murk.

It took Balin a few moments to realise that without Thorin, it was up to him to start. "Balin," He declared loudly, with as much authority as he could muster.

One by one, the Dwarves called out their names, Kili gave my hand a light squeeze to signal that I should call my own name once the Dwarves were through. I sang my name carefully and clearly.

They waited for the final name, the one that I was most anxious to hear. Bilbo. There was no voicing of his name. I grasped Kili's hand a tad tighter, whether to reassure him that at least there may be hope so long as Thorin and Bilbo were together or to seek some sort of reassurance of my own, I had not the slightest idea. Nonetheless, he dragged the pad of his thumb carefully over the back of my hand and it calmed me far more so than any words of comfort ever could.

"Bilbo?" I tested quietly. I did not really believe he would hear it if he were here and yet it only served to consolidate in my mind that he was truly missing. My little cousin lost in this dense wood; not knowing what could be out there any more than we did.

"Where is Thorin?" Bofur asked of no one in particular. Glancing furtively about him despite the sudden extinguishing of the light leaving them in darkness, having to readjust to the limited light.

"The Elves." Fili said solemnly, trepidation tainting his usually cheerful tone. "There's no other explanation: they took him."

It did seem like a plausible explanation. Maybe he Elves tired of our continual interruptions and invasions of their festivities, I suppose I would be none too pleased if someone were to do that to me – then again, I would not abduct a person for doing so.

"Perhaps they were startled," Bombur offered. His kind-hearted nature, seeking a comforting explanation, and yet somehow a troop of startled Elves did not seem to me to be an all too friendly affair.

"Perhaps they took Bilbo too," I mused as calmly as I were able to. "I do hope they are together wherever they may be, I do not like to think either would be alone with those Elves."

Fili sighed, "They will be, Thorin would not allow Bilbo to go alone." If I could see his face clearly, I would have noticed the pity he held upon it for my benefit. The older brother was by my side, so it sounded, and I could see his vague outline against the charcoal that surrounded us, I gave his shoulder a gentle pat in thanks for his sympathy and to express my own; his uncle, too, was absent, after all.

Balin patted my back sympathetically. "Not to worry, miss, I'm sure they're quite all right." He assured more gently than I would have expected him to.

"I don't think Bilbo is with the Elves." Nori piped up, earning a glare from the comforting Balin.

A frustrated groan ran through our Company. "Nonsense!" Dismissed Dwalin impatiently.

"No, I mean it." Nori insisted. "I don't remember seeing him before the lights went out for some time."

I thought back myself, the last time I had really seen him was when he spoke of Elrond and tried to convince me that these Elves could be kindly too. Come to mention it, I do not recall having seen him by the light of the clearing at all. A panic rose in me more fiercely than it had before and even Kili's restless thumb could not still my trembling palms.

Without thinking I did the only think that made sense. I ran. I ran and all but screamed my cousin's name until the sound came out as an endless stream of almost no intelligibility. My lungs were burning, but I could not care less. I could see nothing, but I could not care less. Branches tore at my arms, my sleeves were in tatters; twigs scraped the skin of my cheeks and roots threatened to dislodge my feet from the ground. I could not care less.

At some point Kili's hand had slipped from my own and the cold emptiness of my palm only served to create a deeper sense of uncertainty and loneliness. Dimly I could tell the others were following as best they could. Either the trees were growing to be less densely packed or my eyes were becoming accustomed once more to the greenish light, but at least now I could see and was not always at the peril of stumbling right into whatever tree got in my way. Some of the others were also calling Bilbo, some tried my name too, but I could not answer – not until I had found my cousin. I ran until something lifted me clean into the air.

Sinewy, spindly strength curled about my waist and hoisted me high. A thick black something encircled me, joined by another coming from the other side. Then I saw it. First, inky pincers gleaming with malice; then wire-hair ridden legs, keeping me from squirming too much; and finally a matted, mottled mass that had no right to be as large as it was, dotted with eyes so bright they hurt to look at. Yet it was the pincers that I was focussed on, the beast waved them in my face and they were all I could concentrate on. I suppose it was the perfect distraction. I did not even notice the sting until it had struck home in my gut.

A cold far worse than that of the river water filled my veins and darkness enveloped me yet again, this was not the dream-filled sleep of confusion that I had experienced before. This was the darkening sleep that I could only assume would mean my death.

…

When I woke, soft fibres brushed against my face at every angle. A light, film encased me far more tightly than I thought it ought to for such flimsy material. I opened my eyes to find a cotton-like substance shielding all else from view. For a moment I could have sworn I could hear singing: "Here I am, naughty little fly; you are fat and lazy. You cannot trap me, though you try, in your cobwebs crazy" and someone calling out "Atta cop", whatever that meant. It certainly was not the Elven chorus of earlier – no, this was a far more coarse and earthy sound. I tore and clawed at my confines to find whomever was singing and jeering, but once I had pulled down my veil the only creatures in sight were not the sort to be singing.

Huge, hulking, heinous black masses of spindle-legged beasts loomed into view. Long, wire-haired legs supporting bulky bodies that seemed to me to be far too heavy to be managed by those thin and brittle limbs – and the pincers! They each had a pair of the most fantastically deadly pincers the world has ever seen; or at least that I had ever seen, for I had only ever witnessed tiny money spiders and the occasional daddy longlegs – there being but only a few arachnids in all of the Shire.

Something scratched against the skin of my bare arm, steel kissing the flesh gently, the feeling of a small amount of blood rushing to join the embrace did nothing to distract me from a new sensation. I could _move_, really move. The silky bindings were gone. I had all but forgotten the predicament in my relief, but a small mutter of _Mahal_, brought me back to my senses.

"Apologies," My rescuer whispered as he mopped up the miniscule cut hastily. Fili. "Please do not tell my brother." He pleaded.

I wanted to laugh, seeing the size of the blade he had used I was utterly surprised I had any arm left at all! "It is nothing," I assured him. Sharing his assumption that the youngest brother would not take kindly such a disregard for my keeping my limbs.

Around me, others were being freed from their filmy prisons – though the other rescuers seemed to have selected much smaller, far less lethal knives to cut their bearded damsels free. Fili's next victim just so happened to be his younger brother, though he managed not to mangle Kili. If it were not for the swarm of angry blackness that surged our way, I would have exulted in Kili's wholeness, but with the possibility of none of us being whole for much longer I settled for a relieved smile before remembering myself and unsheathing my sword from my boot. It was a small act of grace that the spiders had not yet managed to disarm us, perhaps they had hoped to devour us without a fuss instead.

The first blow came from behind. I was struck as though by a battering ram in my left kidney and only just had the time to spin around and block the next – which would have collided with my face – with the flat of my blade. Raising the sword above my head I swung it down on one of the closest legs, severing it near completely. The beast screamed, rearing over me like a horse; only with far more legs and a hundred times the ferocity. Without a thought I thrust my weapon upward into the heart of the grotesque creature; trying to ignore the furious wails that streamed out from it in an endless c-sharp of agony.

A symphony of blood-slicked metal cut through the air in every direction, but there was something else too. Arrows flying, always followed by the roar of one of the beasts. Last time I spotted Kili – two, maybe three spiders earlier – he had not managed to pluck his bow from his back and none of the other Dwarves ever bothered to carry a bow, their beards got in the way. But still, the sounds came, strong and undeniable, something so familiar to me could not be mistaken.

A few moments later, I was proved to be right. An arrow lodged itself into the belly of the fifth creature I faced, just seconds before the thing would have taken my leg with its pincers. The arrow had found its mark mere inches above my head; whoever this marksman was, they clearly had a fair aim. I spied Kili directly in front of me, so clearly it was not him, though he apparently did not approve of the arrow flinger. It was not long before I understood why.

The bow in question was held by the tallest, most stunning being I had ever had the chance to witness. Blond hair as long as my own, tugged back from the face by intricate blades that twined into one another to meet at the back. Large, proud cerulean eyes set beneath well-shaped brows and separated by an unequivocally straight nose. The kind of jawline I had only ever thought to exist in myths and legends cradled full lips, still pursed in concentration. It was the sort of face that would make any girl jealous, especially when it is possessed by a male. There was no doubt as to what he was, he was far too lovely to be anything other than an Elf.

He nodded in my direction in a manner that clearly conveyed that I was not worth too much of his attention. There was a graceful wildness to his movements that suggested supple muscles beneath the brown leather he wore as armour. So entranced was I that I only noticed there were more of him when I heard Kili cry out.

"Throw me a blade," He pleaded toward a red-haired Elf-maiden, stood no more than six feet from where he had fallen, his bow crushed and his axe flung far away from him just as a spider decided he looked a tasty treat.

Disgust crossed her features as she sunk one of her many blades into the skull of one of the few spiders yet to retreat. Her eyes were a deep summer green, at least three shades lighter than her tunic, and her cheek bones seemed sharp to the touch. She was even more stunning than the male, and yet right that moment I hated her more than anything in the world. How could she stand to leave him defenceless?

"If you think I'm giving you a weapon, Dwarf, you are mistaken." She shot back, her words as swift and sharp as the daggers that pierced the spider she opposed. "I would not do so," She grunted, "Unless I wanted to end my own life."

I forced myself forward, fully intending to slay the beast myself and perhaps her too, though I knew that was like to be a bad idea. I could not do either, however, I was still yards from the youngest Dwarf when a steel-like force barred my way. I doubled over at the waist trying to move against the offending barricade, which I soon discovered to be an arm. The arm of none other than the first Elf.

"Wait," He hissed in my ear. The sound was not harsh, but the closeness of him made me flinch. These were not the kindly Elves of the Last Homely House. Elrond would no doubt disapprove of these people perhaps even more than he did the Dwarves.

The Elf-maiden swirled swiftly, losing a small dagger in the direction of Kili, who was shuffling away from his assailant on his backside. If she kills him there is nothing in this world to stop me doing the same to her. My cried died in my throat as I strained forward just in time to see the dagger pierce the hide of the attackers belly and the creature's legs curled in on themselves. She strode quickly to Kili's side and offered out her hand.

I could make no more effort to move forward, though my obstacle had slackened it did not withdraw, my feet were planted in place more firmly than any tree roots in the Old Forrest. I watched in confusion as he took the proffered palm and hoisted himself upwards. The spiders had gone for now, but my unease was only just building.

More Elves herded he Dwarves into the centre of the clearing, keeping them tightly packed, without threatening them with weapons.

The Elf behind me guided my sword back inside my boot and adjusted my cloak to ensure my bow was still hidden, making sure the others had not seen them, before leading me to stand with the rest of the Company.

"Saca ti!" The first Elf ordered. Each Elf responded to the order by picking a Dwarf, separating them from the pack and riffling through their possessions, a few of us were still wearing our packs. Fili's was missing, but he would no doubt share Kili's things for the remainder of the journey. Kili could not help but squirm as his Elf reached into pockets and folds of his clothing without permission. Knives, axes, swords and hammers were tossed unceremoniously to the ground where the red-haired Elf-maiden collected them into a hemlock sack that seemed it would not contain all of those weapons, but which managed to do just that.

My Elf began the pretence of searching me, only bothering to remove the smallest of my knives and one of the slingshots, Ori had given me.

"Why are you not taking them all?" I whispered, not wanting to anger him in case he changed his mind and left me defenceless. It did not make sense, surely he did not think me unable to cause a threat simply for being the only female of the Company?

His azure eyes searched mine quizzically, "Why do you care, Halfling?" He did not say it harshly, it was as though he did not want to answer my question.

I could not honestly say why I cared, or if I cared at all, I did not rightly know myself. I was simply confused. "Who are you?"

He had the audacity to smirk at my change in direction, though I am sure he was aware of my suspicion of his avoiding my question. "I am Legolas Thranduilion, son of Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm." His arrogance seeped into his words.

"Never heard of you," I quipped before I could stop myself, I resorted to chewing my lower lip in an effort to try not to offend him further. It would not bode well for us were I to insult a prince, especially one who allowed me to keep my weapons.

Much to my surprise, the Elf grinned at my words, "I wish I could say the same of you, my lady Veyra."

I started visibly, to his obvious amusement, though he had the curtesy not to laugh. "You know my name?" I enquired, trying to regain my composure.

"I knew your mother. She would visit often, even vowed to bring you once you were old enough." His eyes glazed with memory, the kind of recollection that I would guess only came with the passage of centuries. It appeared to be a welcome remembrance. "You are much like her. Her loss is a wound upon this world, but a gift to the next."

I did not know what to make of this information. My mother had ventured far and wide, but I never expected her to reach Mirkwood. He shook his head as though he were about to apologise if he had troubled me at all, but I cut him off. "Saesa omentien lle, Legolas Thranduilion." If I remembered rightly that would mean something along the lines of _a pleasure to meet you._ Though it is many years since my mother used to teach me Sindarin phrases, I could well have told him he looked like a pig.

The change in language did not faze him in the slightest, it would seem he had guessed my mother would teach me what she knew. "Mae govannen, Veyra, daughter of Donnemira." He replied with a small bow.

The Elf relieving Fili of his weapons seemed to be having quite some work to do and so, with a parting glance, Legolas went to the aid of his kin. His place was soon taken by another.

"I do not trust these Elves." Kili asserted, his hand on the small of my back in his usual protective manner. Kili did not meet my gaze as we were herded back into a line, but his hand snuck into my palm gently.

I suppressed a smile, fingering my braid absently and twirling it about. "You do not trust any Elves, Kee." I reminded him gently.

"With good reason." He growled. I remembered too late that it was the King of Mirkwood whom had refused to help Thorin's people when Smaug first coveted the mountain, perhaps his son would be just as callous. Still, I could not imagine any acquaintance of my mother's to be so cruel. "Are you well?" Kili asked, his voice filled with anxiety. I must have been quiet for too long.

I flopped a hand in dismissal, "I'm fine,"

"No," Kili shook his head, tilting my chin with his fingers so as I had to acknowledge the concern I found in his eyes. "You're not. What filth did he tell you?" He worked hard to keep his voice calm and level.

"He knew my mother." I answered and Kili let me dip my chin. I could see that he had expected some great insult to have fallen from the Prince's lips, but none had come.

Kili did the only thing he felt would make things better. He enveloped me into his arms without saying a word. I had not even realised how much his touch stilled any distress within me, I was certain he would have cursed the Elf to oblivion if he found the scoundrel to be lying, I hoped for Legolas' sake that he was telling the truth.

Just above Kili's shoulder I met Legolas' eyes, he arched a brow my way but said nothing of our embrace, though I could tell it was intriguing to him. It was the fire-haired woman that tore us apart. Literally. She wrenched me from Kili's grasp with a palm placed firmly upon my upper arm.

"You will all come with us." She announced, bringing me to the head of where our Company was huddled, now defenceless. "Our King would take a great interest in just why a rabble of Dwarves thought it necessary to trespass upon our lands so armed." Her brown curled above

"We mean you no harm." I assured her in an attempt at peace making.

"I would not take the word of a half-breed." She spat back in disgust, tightening her grip and thrusting me to walk ahead of her.

"Tauriel! Tampa tanya!" Legolas scowled as he led Balin without the need of pressure. The Dwarves and I were outnumbered and leaderless, we were in no position to fight our new captors. Absently, I thought that Tauriel was too lovely a name for someone with so much distrust and malice in their eyes.

"Auta miqula orqu." I whispered under my breath so only she could hear me telling her to go kiss an Orc. I doubt that Legolas would have been all too happy to hear me insulting his comrade after he had instructed her to stop taunting me. Kili would have found it hilarious, though he would not be all too excited to learn about my knowledge of Elvish.

The venomous glare I received from the Elf-maiden assured me that we were not to be friends anytime soon, I cannot honestly say I wanted to be something about her that I was not fond of, I just could not decipher what it was exactly.

It mattered very little, the Dwarves and I were led forcefully from the clearing back into near darkness. Twigs scratched at my face and snagged on my cloak when the red-haired Elf pushed me along too close to grasping branches, but I refused to do so much as flinch from them; it would only serve to satisfy the Elf-maiden. She stood almost a foot taller than I and her hold on my arm grew stronger the further we went on. The Dwarves behind me were struggling and cursing, I tried to get a peek at why but it only caused Tauriel to shake me and lead the troop on faster. At this pace my little legs struggled to keep up, we had walked for what felt like leagues and whenever my speed faltered, I was forced yet quicker.

My discomfort was of little importance though, for every step carried me further from where I had last seen my cousin. All I desired was to turn back and search for him, yet I knew that would not be allowed from any of the Elves; they would think it some kind of ploy. I only hoped that perhaps Bilbo and Thorin would be able to find _us_ eventually.

We came at last to the heart of Mirkwood and I could finally see why it had once been named the Greenwood. The home of the Elves was probably the only redeeming factor Mirkwood had going for it. There were trees yet taller than any others in the wood, coiled with glittering staircases that climbed like snakes into the canopies above, shielded by a near rainbow of leaves and fantastic blossoms, which could only be hiding dwellings of magnificent nature. A vast stone bridge lay ahead on a path of slate and leaves, crawling over a shimmering waterfall, and beyond which the castle of Thranduil could be glimpsed. And a glimpse is all we were permitted to have.

Roughly, Tauriel enveloped my eyes in a coarse blindfold, through the coverage of which I could see not a single thing. The only thing worse than being led through a city I did not know by angry Elves was being unable to see whilst being led through a city I did not know by angry Elves. Assaulted by unfamiliar scents and noises that I could not identify visually was extremely disconcerting; I would have loved to know what those high blossoms smelled like.

I tried my best not to stumble; but alas, I have never had the grace of an Elf and my captor failed to mention we were about to descend a flight of stairs so I was thrown harshly when my foot collided with air as I unwittingly mounted the first step. Tauriel suspiciously failed to break my fall and I hit the cold stone stairs hard. My shoulder took the brunt of it as I rolled down and I was certain I would find a bruise blooming there, thick and purple, by the time we were permitted to see again. Luckily it was only a small staircase, I did not think Tauriel above letting me fall down a thousand steps. I must have let out some squeak of pain as before Tauriel could drag me upright once more, gentle hands lifted me to my feet and began guiding me wordlessly down another flight of stairs as though nothing had happened. The helper smelled of earth and sunlight, though the calluses on his hand suggested work outside of the garden.

"Veyra?" Kili's voice travelled to my ears and I gratefully drank in his words, it was a relief to know he was not too far behind me. "Are you well? If they have harmed you-"

My saviour cut him off. "Do not fret, Dwarf, She is quite well." Legolas.

For a moment I halted in stunned silence, but an encouraging nudge from the Elf reminded me that I should answer, lest I cause the Dwarf further worry. "It was nothing, Kili, do not worry." I wished I could see. I wished I could walk with Kili's palm in my own. I wished we had not come through Mirkwood. All of these things, I wished, and yet only one of them came true. And I wished it had not.

At first it was the change in scent I noticed. The fresh blossoms transformed into damp and rot quicker than I would have thought possible, iron and stone pervaded the air. The rushing sound of a stream cut through the near silent space, the only other noise was that we made ourselves. I could tell we were deep underground, the echoes sounded like there were even deeper places here though.

I was soon proven right. The blindfold was gingerly peeled back from my eye and I gasped in a strange awe at the mere size of the place, despite the pockmarks in the walls – each covered by strong iron bars – the place was oddly beautiful, though the stench was not at all pleasant. My first instinct was to search the behind me for Kili; he was also staring in wonder, but not at the cavernous surroundings. His eyes were fixed on the Elf-maiden. The one who had been responsible for my fall. I was not the only one who had noticed. Fili was giving his brother a disapproving scowl that would rival even Thorin's.

"This is not quite how I imagined my rescue might be."

I recognised those dulcet tones. Never in my life had I been quite so glad, nor quite so sad to see Thorin Oakenshield. Alone. I was happy to see him unharmed; yet disappointed to see him behind bars, even more so when I did not see a Hobbit beside him. _Is Bilbo here too? _My eyes called the question to him.

Thorin shook his head imperceptibly, a small apology in his sad smile. It was not safe to discuss this with Elf-ears listening in, they would assume we had some sort of ambush mission if they knew they had not captured all of us. We had lost our burglar, we had lost my cousin, and if we were to be imprisoned we might have lost the mountain too.

Legolas gave me a searching glance, then turned to Thorin. "This is your company, Dwarf?"

Thorin did not answer. Instead he turned on his heel away from the Elves before his bars and stormed to the very back of his cell. Clearly he had hoped we would rescue him from this prison and not get caught ourselves.

"I shall assume correctness." Legolas smiled unconcernedly, he was in control, and he had nothing to fear from us. "Put them away in twos, apart from the leader."

A chestnut haired Elf spoke up in protest. "My lord, then we shall have one left over."

The prince ached a brow, "You think it prudent to place a young girl alone in a cell with a Dwarf, a male Dwarf no less." He left no room in his tone for the imagination to ponder what he thought a Dwarf male capable of.

I wanted to scream that I should be fine, that I would be happy to share with Kili, but I couldn't. The way Kili eyed the red-haired Elf made my stomach turn. How could he ever think me pretty again after her beauty? She is the brightest full moon and I, a distant star in the background of the night; there were a million of me, but only one of her.

One by one we were placed in cells, mine happened to be between Thorin on my left and Fili and Kili to my right. The Elf placing the brothers inside their cage plucked a knife they had missed earlier from the lapel of Fili's cloak, it was most difficult to stifle a giggle. Or at least, it was difficult for a moment.

"Aren't you going to search me too?" Kili asked in mock innocence of Tauriel. "I could have anything down my trousers." He trailed off suggestively, in a voice I had thought he reserved only for me; low and husky. I did not quite feel like laughing after that.

"Or nothing." She retorted, though her simper made it clear that she were jesting with him.

I retreated to the far wall of my confines, as Thorin had done. Though not to hide my anger, but to veil my tears.

* * *

><p><strong>The Rogue Traders - Rescue Me <strong>


	14. Loosen the Knot

I suppose I must have fallen asleep sometime before my tears had dried up completely, there was a damp patch on my jacket – which I had used as a pillow – and I was fairly certain I did not drool in my slumber (or at least I hoped I did not). My eyes were raw from my constant swiping and they stung with misery as I dislodged the sleep from the corners, the gritty substance grazing my sensitive skin as though chastising me for being so foolish as to cry. It must have been either very late or very early, either way it was so dark that I could only just make out the bars of my prison door.

Hushed voices reach my ears. An argument straining to remain quiet, but getting too heated to stay so.

"I do not like the way that Elf looks at her." Kili hissed in annoyance.

"She did not look upon him though, brother." Fili's soft voice drifted through my bars softly, reprimanding his opponent. "You've upset her and you know it." They were talking about me, I did not believe Fili would be quite so interested if it were anyone outside the Company and seeing as though I were the only 'her' among our group, it would be a reasonable assumption. So Fili had seen my distress, he had always seemed the more perceptive of the two brothers. I felt terribly guilty for eavesdropping, but at the same time; I was incredibly curious. I was surprised to hear they did not argue in Khuzdul, it would have been far more private for them then it was in the Common Tongue.

I could almost hear Kili's confused stare in my mind. "I have given her no reason to be so," He replied defensively.

"You are aware of what you have done and not done, brother." I could almost see Fili rolling his eyes at his younger brother, exasperated that he did not seem to understand of was pretending not to grasp the consequences of his actions.

"I have done nothing!" The indignity carried a little loudly through the cavern and inside it could be gleaned the peeping face of guilt.

The older brother sighed sadly in defeat, "I thought you truly cared for her."

A pause. "I do." Kili breathed back belatedly.

"Then how is it that another caught your eye? Is she not clever enough? Is she not entertaining enough?" Fili's questions reflected much of what I had already asked myself. The underlying question being_: am I good enough? _

"Of course she is, Veyra is more than enough." Kili responded quickly, without hesitating. Almost too fast for me to believe it. How could I ever be enough? He is a Prince and I am nobody, at least Tauriel seems to be somewhat important.

"Then the She- Elf? Tauriel?" Fili ventured tentatively.

The youngest brother's normally open air closed itself slightly, only letting his response through. "What of her?"

"She was covered in your eyes." Fili shot back testily. He was tired of his brother's avoidance and so was I.

"I barely glanced her way." Kili deferred as though he thought his brother to be seeing things.

Fili became sterner than I had ever heard him be with his brother, or anyone else, before. "You stared at her more than was necessary, you joked with her. You flirted with her-"

"I did not!" The youngest cut in.

Fili's rage flared and his whispers almost became shouts. "Yes, brother, you did!"

The darker one changed his approach. "It is no crime to observe the beauty of another."

I was right, he could never see me as being so much as pretty in comparison to Tauriel, not that I ever would have done so myself. It was not fair; we were courting, were we not? I had thought that to mean at least something. It hit me harder than those stairs had to hear that he could admire another; my breath was gone and my stomach pleaded to empty itself, but I stayed as still and silent as I were able to.

"There is a difference between observing and gawping! Especially after Tauriel was so horrible to Veyra." Fili was whisper-shouting by this point, his anger overflowing into me even as I felt I could burst already with my own.

A shadow emerged before my cage, standing in front of the cell the younger heirs of Durin shared. I wanted to warn them that someone might be listening, but to do that I would have to admit that I had been as well.

It did not matter, the shadow announced itself soon enough. "Of what is it you speak?" The tenor of Tauriel asked.

"Nothing of your interest, Elf." Fili spat coldly in her direction.

"Out with it!" Tauriel fired sharply, her melodic voice made it clear that she was not unused to being in command. "You spoke my name, I will know of why."

"You were not supposed to hear it." Kili replied, an abashed note taking charge in his usually confident speech.

That did it. That small change broke my restraint. "Then perhaps it would be wise to speak in your own tongue so as others are not forced to hear it." I snapped, declaring myself to be awake. I was no longer ashamed to have been eavesdropping, I was too furious to feel so.

"I had thought you to be sleeping." Came Kili's quiet response, he sounded torn between embarrassment and anger.

I strained to keep my voice level. How could he be angry with me? How _dare _he be angry at me? Was it not his own actions that had caused his argument with Fili I the first place? "You were mistaken." Was all I said in reply.

"Vey," His voice drifted in closer, I could envisage him pressed against his bars trying to catch a peek at where I still sat on my own patch of stone. There was a pain in that small utterance, one far greater than the three letters that made it up.

I did not answer him. Besides, I did not truly have any idea what to say to him. It would do him some good to stew in his own misery as I had been forced to. Evidently Fili thought so too.

"Leave her be, Kili. The damage is done." He advised his younger brother. He was right, I had heard and seen all I needed to, I just had to clear my head and decide how to go about things now.

"And none of you have answered my question." Tauriel reminded us. It was plain to see that this was not the time for her insistence, I felt she knew that; otherwise she would not have pressed on.

"Kela!" I ground out as steadily as I were able to, ordering her away with as much force as I could muster.

The Elf had the audacity to laugh through the bars at me. "Amin feuya ten' lle." She told me I disgusted her. I was not surprised, it was not uncommon to find such feeling toward half-breeds.

I could not find it I me to care. I told her as much. "Amin uuma malia." I did not need to turn and look at her in the dim light to know how unused she was to anyone speaking thusly to her. It had not escaped my notice that not one Dwarf had said a word in this altercation, they could not understand her words, but there was no mistaking the venom she laced them with. I could practically feel her scowl as she replied in the Common Tongue, just in case anyone happened to miss her words.

"You are nothing, half-breed. If it were not for orders, I would have left you to the spawn of Ungoliant."

I flinched a little at the insult, but another hint piqued my interest. "Orders from who?"

"The King of Mirkwood, you abomination." She flung out as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. I suppose it should have been, but that would suggest that the King knew we were in Mirkwood before we even got close to his domain.

"I would speak with him." I asserted, confident for once that I could maybe find us a way out of this mess. After all, if the price was acquainted with my mother, surely the king would be too? And it would follow that they would then listen to the daughter of an Elf-friend, would they not?

Tauriel laughed harshly. "You will do no such thing, swine."

"Tauriel!" Legolas emerged with a halo of light around him, he held a silver lamp in one hand. "Cease at once!" She did not appear to be all too pleased at being instructed to stop taunting me for a second time, Legolas seemed even less so having to tell her again. He looked as if he rarely had to tell her anything once, let alone twice.

Tauriel cowered a little, like a child caught doing something they should not be. "As you wish, my lord." She gave a small bow and departed.

It stunned me to think that a prince who did not know me truly would come to my defence when the prince who professed to love me would not.

"You would ask for an audience with my father?" He clarified, speaking directly to me, his eyes blazing blue in the shallow light.

The sphere of gold brushed my face, making it hard to focus, blinking as though it were the sun. I nodded. "If it pleases your grace." I could remember my manners better than Bilbo when I needed to get my own way.

"I will not allow it!" Came Thorin's stern declaration. I understood his apprehension; these were the Elves he hated more than any other, he would not want me fraternising with them, but all I wanted to do is find a way for us to be freed and if it involved my being pleasant to them I would do it.

"I will." Legolas overruled. "As the sun rises, I will send an escort and she shall have her wish." He vowed sincerely, his impenetrable gaze never leaving me even when he spoke to Thorin.

I bowed my head politely, "Thank you, my lord."

"Legolas," He corrected, "You need only call me Legolas."

"Forgive me… Legolas." I amended.

"My lady," He nodded in farewell and left, the warm light retreating with him, leaving nothing but dim coldness in his wake.

I lay down once more, optimistically hoping to get a couple more hours of sleep before I was to meet with Thranduil. Maybe I would even think of something meaningful to say. Maybe I would be able to untangle the mess of thoughts coiling like snakes in my head.

"What do you plan to do?" Thorin questioned, breaking my reprieve.

I sighed, was it not clear? "Whatever I can to get us out of here." I answered shortly, immediately feeling guilty, it was not Thorin who had upset me after all. "They knew my mother, perhaps that will help matters," I expanded.

Thorin sighed, he did not seem to think my plan would work, but at least he had decided not to outright dismiss it. "You trust them?"

"Of course not." I heaved. Right now I did not trust anybody, except maybe Bilbo, but he was still missing.

"Have a caution," Kili interrupted. "People will say anything they can to manipulate you."

"So I have noticed." I snapped.

The rest of the night passed in silence, but for the sound of Dwarf snoring and sleepy mutterings. I thanked the gods for the others not pressed further in their interrogation, all I wanted was a few hours of peace to sleep and think and I had been granted that. Only, sleep never came and I could think of nothing but my own frustrations. I would have been glad of the oblivion, but instead I was given agitation. For the first time I pondered that it might have been better for me to have stayed in Rivendell, or even not to have left the Shire at all; I wound not be faced with this if I had stayed home.

….

The dawn's first light stroked at my face, but there had been no need to wake me for I had not slept. The others had, I could hear it. Just as I could hear when my two escorts descended the stairs to collect me for my meeting with their King. I do not know what I had expected. I think a part of me had hoped it would be Legolas himself appearing at the bottom, but alas it was not to be.

Two identical Elf-males emerged, both wearing the same green and brown tunics that I had gathered to be the garb of this realm. Both had the pointed ears I had grown used to, but there was something wild about the grey eyes that hinted toward something of an entirely unknown territory. They marched in perfect synchronicity to the door of my cell, one of them opening it deftly, neither of them saying a single word to me. Not even to tell me to come out. They gestured with a hand for me to follow them and I did so in the same stoic silence as they displayed. The Elves walked at such speed as I did not have time to glance behind me to see if any of the others were awake yet, but I did not mind too much, it would be better if I was gone before they emerged.

This time no one had bothered to blindfold me, I do not think they thought me capable of causing too much trouble on my own. Or maybe they did not intend for me to be able to relate to anyone any secrets of this domain so there would be no point in hiding anything. That thought sent a chill down my spine, if I were not to return that only meant one thing…

I was taken to a grand hall, large and painted with every shade of green imaginable in dappled patterns and shapes. The windows let in the lazy early morning light that seemed to be perfectly angled so that light would always fall into the centre of the room. Rightly so, as that is where the focal point of the hall resided.

A glittering stone platform, fronted by a marble staircase led to magnificent glass throne, taller than any being and flared at the top to give the occupant a more imposing presence. It reflected the jade hues as though it were made of crystallised leaves and pure light, the effect emanated a faint glow that would only increase as the daylight grew stronger, of that I was sure. But that was not the most eye-catching thing about it. That was the person whom held the throne.

Thranduil was a sight to behold. His silken hair so blond it had to be considered a silvery white, even though his eyebrows were a distinct black – as were his fantastically long eyelashes. Pale blue eyes of ice glimmered beneath those heavy brows and were separated by a long nose above thin lips in a line of displeasure. He wore a silk tunic of rich azure and a gemstone laden overcoat that would come to meet the ground even if he were standing and which shimmered in the light with his every breath. A crown of sharp antlers adorned his head, it was a wonder he found it comfortable, though I doubted he would be able to rest his head against the back of his throne without great pain. I thought it odd that the only things he shared with his son were the hair and eyebrows. Even Legolas' eyes were a different blue, bolder and yet softer than the chips of ice that his father wore. What is more, there were guards evenly spaced around the room. Seven of them.

"Your grace," I addressed him with a curtsy, though I was not sure whether or not that would be the custom here.

"Veyra Took, daughter of Donnemira." He inclined his head gently. "I had hoped we would meet under far more pleasant circumstances. I would have been much more… accommodating."

I rolled my eyes at his false niceties. "Nonsense, your grace. Your prisons are delightful." Quipped the more insolent side of me, before I could truly try to stop it.

To my relief, the King smirked, he looked slightly more like his son when he did so. "You have your mother's sense of humour, I see."

"Forgive me, I did not mean to offend." I apologised, hoping that he did not let the insult take.

"Indeed." It was clear he did not think my apology sincere, it probably was not. "Tell me, child, how is it you have managed to upset my Captain of the Guard so thoroughly?"

_Captain of the Guard?_ _Upset?_ Well, there could only be one person in this palace that I had had the displeasure of upsetting. "Tauriel?"

"Yes," For a moment he almost seemed to be amused. As soon as the emotion had reared its head, Thranduil smothered it with a serene disinterest. "My son has informed me that he has had to discipline her for the first time in her entire service. She tells me it is your doing."

I bowed my head, I was not ashamed of how I had behaved, but I had a feeling I ought to be. "I do not deny I have said some things, nor do I regret them, but I did not cast the first stone." My words had been but ripples on the water, I hoped he would understand that.

"I trust you understand I cannot grant leniency to you because of your mother." His eyes examined me as though they were assessing me carefully, trying to figure out exactly how I would react.

"I do." I answered calmly. I wanted to prove myself to be strong, to be capable.

He nodded to himself, it was not evident whether I had pleased him or disappointed him. His assessment stayed secret, he changed the direction of the conversation swiftly. "How is it a child of good heritage comes to travel with so many Dwarves?"

I remained vague with my answer. "They needed help." Not exactly my help, but that did not matter. Not really.

"I see," My evasion did not escape his notice. "Help with what?"

I chewed my lip nervously. I knew very well that Thorin would be furious if I told the Elves anything about the quest, but I had a feeling that Thranduil already guessed our will; this was a test, an experiment to see how loyal I could be. I was sure of it. There was not much went on in Middle Earth – and beyond – that the Elves missed or did not suspect.

His brow rose, slightly creasing his smooth forehead. "You have her stubbornness too. More's the pity." Somehow the laughing glint in his eye did not mirror his words; I would have thought he believed it a positive trait, but perhaps only if I were to be stubborn for a cause of his. "She once implored me to work with your leader and fight the Great Worm."

This surprised me. "She did?"

"She did," He confirmed. "And I would say to you what I did to her: it is not our business."

I felt like a balloon would were it deflated. Hope left my body in one long gust. "So you will not help us?"

"Your 'king' is no king unless he has the Arkenstone, this you know. To fight the Dragon he would need to be King and unite the armies of Durin." Thranduil reasoned. I was unsure why he would feel the need to explain himself to me, maybe it was simply his friendship with my mother.

"You could work with us," it was a certainty in my mind by this point, "But you will not." I clarified. It would not do to fail to make sure I had the right of this.

Thranduil recoiled slightly defensively in his chair. "I have my own lands to protect, child." He asserted. "It is of no matter to my people and I would not risk them."

"And what of the rest of this land?" I shot back, for once unafraid. He could lock me up again, but then again he probably would shut me back in that cage whatever I said to him at this point. "If Smaug had coveted your home, would you not fight?"

"I would do what is best for my people." He riled, rising from his seat.

I stood my ground. "Would reclaiming a homeland not be best?"

"Best would be to escape dragon fire at any cost." I had no real argument for that, I could not ask him to charge into such flesh-melting flame. "Believe me, child, if the Worm had perished that Mountain would not escape my attention."

"I do not understand." I admitted in all honesty. Why should Thranduil desire the home of the Dwarves?

He sat down once more, seeing that I would not fight his words anytime soon. "There are things in Erebor that I desire to take back too, but I am not the fool that Thorin Oakenshield is."

I jutted my chin sharply. "Then you are a coward."

"And you think you are braver than I?" Again, his sapphire orbs filled with mirth.

My lips quirked and I indicated our surroundings. "I am not the one with seven guards watching whilst I converse with a 'child'." If I were truly harmless as a child, he would not be in need of those and I was fairly certain the king did not know his son had allowed me to keep my weapons.

A plan could be seem behind his stoic expression, one that I was sure had been brewing ever since I asked for an audience with him. "You think you are so heroic then you shall prove it." He asserted.

"W-what? How?" I stammered. Of what use could I be to the King of Mirkwood?

"There are gems in that mountain that I desire too, white gems made from pure starlight."

It would not take a fool to work out what he had in mind for me to do for him, to earn his favour. "You wish for me to find them."

"You plan to retrieve the Arkenstone, the King's Jewel. If you return to me what Thror took, then I shall gather an army to be at your aid." He pledged.

If I agreed to this, it was unavoidable that Thorin would hate me even more so than any Elf, it would be a great betrayal in his view. On the other hand, it would benefit him; not only would he have the Arkenstone and to reinstate his title, but he would have the army of Mirkwood as well as the Dwarvish armies at his back. It was plain that he would need as much help as he could get to reclaim Erebor from Smaug the Stupendous, but was it really worth risking estrangement from Thorin who might even refuse the help of an Elvish cavalry? I could not see the Dwarf leader being kindly toward even my discussing this.

"And if I do this, we are free to go?" I enquired.

"_You_ are free to leave when you wish. The others will stay as insurance." Thranduil amended.

That was the question decided for me. If they were not to be released then I would not go. Betraying them would not be worth it if it only gained my own freedom. They could hardly take back the Misty Mountain whilst they remained locked away in Mirkwood. Besides, Thorin was the only one who ever touched the key, he would not give it away lightly and he would most certainly not give it to me if he knew what I were up to.

"I do believe this is where I take my leave." I curtsied once more, only on this occasion the gesture was one of mocking and not one of respect. From the look on Thranduil's visage I saw that he had expected nothing less.

"Very well, child," Thranduil dismissed, beckoning his guards to return me from whence they had brought me. "I hope you enjoy your stay in my 'delightful' dungeons. You will be there for quite some time." I had no doubt of that. The taunting way he echoed my own words chilled me more than the prospect of spending the rest of my days in my cage. "After all, a hundred years is but a blink in the life of an Elf."

The two guards who brought me here returned to flank me, wordlessly extracting me from the room like an unwanted pest. Thranduil remained seated, eyeing me carefully, still examining how I reacted to the slightest of things. I kept my chin held high and did not so much as flinch when instead of guiding me without pressure, each guard lightly took an arm and forcibly led me back to the dungeon through a different corridor than the way I had come. It made me pass by the King of Elves as I left, I held his gaze for as long as I could without turning my head to look at him. I could feel as opposed to see Thranduil's observations cease with the heavy doors closing, obstructing the path of his vision and I was glad to be free from his sight.

Once inside my cell once more the Elves locked me back up and retreated quickly, no sooner were they out of sight than the Dwarves began their inquisition, as I knew they would.

"What did you say?" Dwalin asked.

"What did_ he_ say?" Fili piped up with anxious uncertainty.

"Did they hurt you?" Kili enquired. Looking at me strangely.

Ori put in concernedly. "You look pale."

"Silence!" Thorin interrupted in a rumbling growl. "Veyra, what happened?" He demanded calmly.

I took a deep breath. "I was offered a bargain in exchange for my freedom." I explained in short. I smoothed my hair, thinking the knotty mess would relish the chance to wash in the stream we could hear running constantly.

"And?" Thorin encouraged, it was clear that he had picked up on the deal only guaranteeing my freedom and none of the others, but I doubt he had expected anything less.

"And I refused." I could see him through both sets of bars and he was nodding as though I had done what he thought to be the respectable and honourable thing.

Thorin met my eyes with trepidation. "What was it he would have traded your freedom for?"

"You would not have liked it." I hedged, turning my face to the ground. Mention of his grandfather often sent him into stupors of despair and we did not need that right this moment. We needed our leader to be alert, to figure some other way out of here. I was only useful for o much and evidently this was one situation I could not fix.

To my relief, Thorin did not press me to answer more questions, instead he began assessing with Balin the ironwork of the prison bars that stood between us and freedom. I thought they had exhausted such conversations last night when we first arrived, but evidently there was more to be said of leverage and pressure.

They did not seem to notice when the two guards returned with a third addition. A certain red satin-haired addition. She did not meet my eyes as she passed my cell and proceeded straight to that of Thorin's. The Dwarf-leader stood ground and refused to utter a word until he was given his own explanation as to what he owed this pleasure.

"The King wishes to speak with you." The Captain of the Guard informed the Dwarf in her usual smooth fluidity. "He thinks someone whose company has shown such loyalty to him should be given the chance of speech."

Thorin turned to me in questioning, I gave him a subtle nod. I could not see what good it could do if he tried to persuade Thranduil as I had, but a refusal of an audience with the King that held us prisoner would surely not bode well for anyone involved.

"Very well," Thorin ground out slowly. "I will do as you ask."

Tauriel nodded satisfactorily, unlocking the cage that held Thorin swiftly, evidently Thranduil wished the meeting to proceed presently. She held the door open for the Dwarf and ordered the guards to depart in soft Sindarin. Strangely the Elf did not accompany them to this Council, instead she sat down upon a small step in the path that led to the ledge where Fili and Kili's and my own cell rested.

Kili pretended not to notice her presence and I wondered if Fili had had another one of his talks with his younger brother, or perhaps Thorin had mentioned something. Either way, it was obvious to see that Kili was trying desperately not to give me any cause to be annoyed at him and that gave me a slight lift. Maybe he was truly sorry for his flirtation. Maybe I was overreacting, Kili was a naturally flirtatious personality any way. Maybe I had nothing to worry about.

The dark prince tossed up and down the small rune stone he had shown me one night many months ago. I was slightly proud that he had not managed to lose it as Fili had predicted he would, but I was also aware of how much the small token meant to him. He would guard it with his life. I had noticed that he only ever removed it from his inside jacket pocket when he was struggling with something inside, perhaps I had upset him as well.

"The stone in your hand, what is that, Dwarf?" Tauriel asked imperiously, her head tilted in a way which would look adorable if I did not despise her more than anything in the entire world right this moment.

Kili jumped at the sound of her voice, almost dropping the rune stone in his shock. "This? It is a talisman," He covered it as though he did not want her to see it, I did not blame him, he rarely showed anyone it. "A powerful spell lies upon it. If any but a Dwarf reads the runes on the stone…" He suddenly thrust the rune stone through the bars so as she could not help but observe it, close as it was to her face. "They would be forever cursed!" He finished dramatically.

Tauriel gasped. Of course, it was not true, no curse lay upon that stone and it was perfectly safe to admire; but for a few moments I had the satisfaction of viewing the indignantly terrified expression on the Elf-maiden's otherwise smug little face.

"Or not," Kili added, I could see from his face that he felt a little guilty for worrying the Elf; though had it been Fili or I, we would have all laughed about it. "Depends if you believe that sort of thing." Kili smiled meekly, "It's really just a token." He explained hurriedly, "A rune stone. From my mother."

Tauriel's visage smoothed itself once more and she had the nerve to simper. "Is that so?"

"It is to remind me of my promise." Kili went on. I wished he would not.

I caught the eye of Fili and it was obvious that he hoped his brother would cease as well. Though he said nothing, the blond brother glared at the Elf in a manner that clearly stated he wished for her to leave.

Sadly, she did not. "What promise?" The intruder pressed on.

"That I would come back to her." Kili informed her without hesitation. It was as though he _trusted_ her, I dearly hoped that was not the case. "She worries. She thinks I'm reckless."

She let out a tinkling laugh that sounded to me like a mixture of music and pure evil, though I may have been slightly biased in that opinion. "Are you?" She continued her questioning. She was far too inquisitive for my liking, as well as a great many other things that were not to my liking also.

"Nah," Kili shrugged nonchalantly, tossing the stone into the air once more. This time he did not catch it.

I barely had time to register the shock on his face as the stone tumbled toward the edge of the ledge before a shape moved to still its flight. The stone was caught by a slender hand, seizing it in time for it not to be lost to the flowing ravine below. Of course _she_ would catch it. Somehow I liked her less for the deed, though it made no sense for me to desire the devastation I knew Kili would feel if he lost the rune stone his mother had given him.

"You ought to hold on to that better." She quipped, smirking as she handed the stone back to him, her hand lingering in his a brief second longer than really necessary.

He smiled sheepishly, then cocked his head. Singing had begun in the upper levels, much like that we had heard before we were captured. "Sounds like quite a party they are having up there," Kili commented.

"It is Mereth En Gilith, the Feast of Starlight. All light is sacred to the Eldar. Wood elves love best the light of the stars." Tauriel explained.

Kili frowned and I was glad to see he disagreed with her opinion. "I always thought it to be a cold light, remote and far away."

"It is memory! Precious and pure!" She exclaimed. "Like your promise." She added softly. "I have walked there sometimes. Beyond the forest and on into the night. I have seen the world fall away and the white light of forever fill the air." She said all of this as though it were a secret, as though she were confiding to her greatest friend.

The young brother's eyes glazed over with awe and longing. "I saw a Firemoon once," Kili confessed suddenly. "It rose over the pass near Dunland. It was huge. Red and gold it was, it filled the sky. We were an escort with some merchants…"

I had no heart to listen to them comparing moons and stars. Nor did I want to see them. Idly I fingered the braid in my hair. When I found the string I tugged tentatively, the first knot came undone, but the others held; if I pulled just a little harder I would probably feel the entire knot give. I could take the whole thing out if I wished.

"Please, give it more time." Fili pleaded, startling me with his uncharacteristically worried eyes. "Once you take that out there can be no going back."

I sighed dropping my hands to lay limply at my sides. "I am not all too sure your brother would care too much." I spat half-heartedly as the young Dwarf conversed with the Elf, oblivious to my hurting.

"He would, I promise you, he would." Assured Fili, reaching through both sets of bars to place a hand upon my own. "Besides, who else would take this useless lump?" He added a little louder, nudging his brother hard in the ribs. "Without sending him back, of course."

Kili had heard the jibe and pushed the older Dwarf playfully. "I am a delight and she knows it, don't you, Vey?"

I made an 'eh' noise and waved my hand in a noncommittal gesture. "You are tolerable at times." I joked, relishing the return of the Kili I favoured. A part of me regretted being quite so cold toward him, perhaps he had not noticed or intended his favour of Tauriel.

"Tolerable?" Kili complained in mock horror. "I am not your favourite Dwarf in the whole world?" He joked incredulously.

I shrugged. "Well…" I hedged, enjoying the slight glimmer of uncertainty in his visage. "You are preferable."

"To getting pox," Fili clarified in his jocular manner. "Though it is close, brother. Is it not, Veyra?"

I watched as Kili aimed a light blow to his older brother's head and thought of how long it had been since I had seen them joke like this, certainly it had been before entering Mirkwood. "Very." I affirmed with a chuckle. I had not noticed Tauriel depart, neither had the brothers, but I was glad she was gone for now.

"I've missed that," Kili mused, grinning childlike at me, his head tilted to the side. "Your laughter." He clarified when I tilted my own head in confusion.

I frowned a little. I suppose I had not been all together cheerful as of late. "I have not had the mind to laugh since the river." I admitted vaguely, looking down at the dust and dirt ridden floor.

"Vey," Kili tested tentatively, "When you slept, do you remember anything other than those horrid dreams?"

I shook my head. "No," I answered, all I remembered apart from those unsettling nightmares was a feeling of being lost. "I thought I had already told you?"

The young Dwarf nodded, "I just wanted to be clear."

"Kee, what is it?" I slipped my hand through our bars to rest upon his open palm and he took it as though it were a lifeline, something he needed to cling to. Luckily our cages were at an angle so as it was not too much of an effort to reach, not that I would not have tried anyway.

"You talked. In your sleep." He admitted. "Dark words, they set fear inside me."

I ran the pad of my thumb gently over the bit of flesh where his thumb joined his index finger, slowly back and forth, the way that usually soothed him. "What did I say?"

"Morn an vennag. Just those words, over and over." His dark brows pulled together for a meeting of concern, it was almost painful to see his so anxious. "It is Khuzdul, do you know its meaning?" He asked and continued once I shook my head. "It means 'death will come'."

"Oh," The utterance seemed at once far too little to cover the range of emotion I felt. There was surprise that I had spoken words I did not know in a language I could hardly speak; confusion over what my saying of them could mean; embarrassment that I had been the one mumbling such dark tidings; and terror at what such things could mean.

"I am sure it is nothing." Fili interrupted, lest his brother stir up too much worry in my mind. Fili evidently did not wish me to panic.

"It does not sound like nothing." A stern voice intervened from the top of the stairs. Descending them was the one Elf I had not expected to see again. His blond locks pulled back in intricate braids behind his pointed ears.

I could sense Kili's vicious glare that would be directed the Elf's way, though I peeped at neither of them. It was rude of me to ignore the Elf, but I knew that too much attention toward the blond prince would only lead to fury from the dark prince and despite the latter's activities I still did not wish to be in bad favour with him.

"You did well," Legolas directed my way when it seemed none of us would comment on his input. I stared at him, bewildered. "This morning, you did well." He expanded.

I scowled slightly. Surely he was making fun of me? "How so? I did not succeed in freeing us." I kept my palm secured to Kili's as I spoke and resumed my thumb's calming motion. The bars chaffed on my skin lightly as if to reaffirm my words.

"No, but you have given my father reason to consider what goes on beyond his own borders." Legolas explained as though it really mattered to me, or any of the Dwarves, what Thranduil did with his kingdom.

I shrugged. "It will do my Company no good if he does not grant us help. Provisions and weapons would be the least he could give us."

The Elf sighed heavily, as though he had thought the very same thing himself. "That I know well, my lady. He is stubborn and unused to the liking of Dwarves, as am I for that matter." I peered up at him finally to see thinly veiled disgust upon his face, though he did not look at me; just my hand where it rested in Kili's.

"They're not too bad," I mocked, beaming up at Kili whom now wore a smug smile of triumph over the Elf. "Once you get used to them." I added. The dark-haired prince poked out his tongue my way childishly, but did not lose his cheer.

"I fear I never shall." Legolas deadpanned, "I have not the patience for them that you and your mother share."

That piqued my attention more so than anything else he could have had to say to me. "You knew her well?" I enquired, doing my best not to sound too interested. It was now Kili's turn to drag his thumb over my hand to pacify me.

"Less than some, more so than others." He responded. I wondered whom the 'some' and 'others' might be. "She gave us counsel when the woods were still green and we were more… welcoming to visitors, but her business would soon take her away from us." Legolas explained. It was hard to believe my mother, though she was well-known (and distrusted by more than a few of the more conservative Hobbits) for being quite the adventurer, I little saw her being involved in councils or advising Kings. "She visited Esgaroth far more frequently than she did the Greenwood, as you no doubt know."

"Actually, I did not." What business could she have in Esgaroth? Wherever that may be.

Legolas backtracked slightly, the spark of recognition hiding behind his eyes. He knew something he was not telling me. "Forgive me, I should not have spoken."

"Why would she go there? Where even is Esgaroth?" I demanded.

It startled me to hear Kili speak up from the cell beside mine, I had been so enraptured I had not noticed anything more from him than his hand trying to keep me calm. "It is a town that lies upon the great lake in the shadows of Erebor."

My forehead creased as I glanced at the youngest Dwarf. "Why would my mother go there?" I wondered aloud.

"I apologise. It is not my place to tell you." Legolas seemed genuinely saddened that he could not tell me whatever this vital piece of information was. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

I turned my back to him. "I see."

For a moment I thought he had gone, such was his silence, but after a few minutes he spoke up once more. "You seem vexed, my lady." I rolled my eyes at the obviousness of his observation, but he continued. "Might I… Might I enquire as to what has you so concerned? Have I upset you?"

"It is not that, not entirely." I replied honestly. In truth, another worry pervaded my mind; if we were to be imprisoned here forever, then what would become of poor old Bilbo out in the forest all alone? "I worry for my cousin." I told him.

"Your cousin?"

"Yes…" I informed the Elf, there was no use in hiding it now we had no chance of being freed and maybe if the Elves found Bilbo he would be safer here in the cells rather than alone in the forest. "He was with us. He is a Hobbit, a Halfling, we lost him."

Legolas paused in thought, his eyes glazing over. "Then you should find him before the spiders do."

I blanched. "You would let me go?" The incredulous note in my tone carried loudly.

He nodded slowly. "To find your cousin." He elucidated.

"She will need a protector," Kili asserted possessively, his palm convulsing around mine.

"That she will," Legolas agreed, "Which is why I shall accompany her."

"You would go with me?" I queried uncertainly. "I would rather Kili…" I would rather Kili came with me than a stranger. I would rather Kili than anyone, let alone an Elf whose father was the reason for my imprisonment. Though my arm ached from the effort, I kept a hold of his hand tightly as though I could will him through the bars and to my side.

"If my guards find him, he will like as not find himself back in a cell at best." Legolas said of Kili, though he probably only cared that if Kili went too there would be two prisoners on the loose. "We must not get caught."

"You will be punished for this."

"Only if we do not evade capture." Legolas shrugged nonchalantly, reminding me of the arrogance of his father; they were definitely more alike than I had thought. "Come. Now."

"You must go, Vey." Kili ordered evenly, he pressed something cool and smooth into my palm, bringing it to meet his lips in farewell before withdrawing his hold.

"Thank you." I whispered, tears sparkling in my eyes. I knew what he had given me and I would treasure it until we met again.

Legolas swung open the door to my cage. The Elf-prince all but dragged me down a flight of stairs, deeper into the dungeon, closer to my freedom. If the two of us had been paying proper attention, we might have noticed the invisible hands sneaking keys into the locks of Dwarf cells.

* * *

><p>Loosen the Knot - Lissie<p>

Thanks to Sesshomaru'sGinstuki, pure1ruby, Enchanta and Guest for their lovely reviews. Hopefully this chapter clears a few things up a little, there will be a lot more about Veyra's mother to come and the identity of her father will come out in the next couple of chapters. It is probably obvious who he is from the clues in this chapter, but shh - don't ruin it! :)


	15. Hold Back The River

I could barely match the pace of my rescuer, though I could not find the time nor the inclination to feel the slightest twinge of embarrassment for that – I was more concerned about how much the speed was making me sweat. The deeper Legolas dragged me into the labyrinth of tunnels twinning their way underneath Mirkwood, the more uneasy I became. I was not entirely sure this Elf would lead me to my freedom or my death, or worse things, things that you know happen to women but that no one dares to speak of. As much as such thoughts daunted me, my concern was mainly for my cousin. No one had seen him before we lost Thorin, I knew now that Thorin was safe – in a way – and yet there had been not sighting of Bilbo, it was as though he had become invisible as a spectre. If I did not find him in the depths of this forest, I was sure the Elves would and I could not say that they would be in any way kind to my dear cousin. It would be far safer if I were to be the one to locate him. A small ribbon of crystal water ran languidly beside us, not even bothering itself to catch up, not daunted in the slightest be the fear of being left behind – it would find us again eventually.

I noticed that Legolas wore his bow and quiver strapped to his back, two long knives intersecting beneath them with their handles in easy reach on his shoulder blades, a long sword was slung at his hip and three small daggers at the other, the outline of more knives indicated further weapons tucked inside his boots. Since Legolas had taken my knives in pretence of disarming me when we were captured, my measly bow and few arrows beneath my travelling cloak and the light short sword in my right leather boot felt like nothing to his heavy artillery – if it came to a fight I was certain I would not be the victor.

Further we went and yet, surprisingly, the smell became less foul, almost cleaner. The stream was widening on its way down beside our small and treacherously uneven path. I could not help but be furious with the way my companion managed not to falter with his steps when I tripped at the slightest provocation of the smallest pebble or loose stone, he might have at least shown me a courtesy stumble. The air began to feel freer and the water flowed faster, taking up most of the cavern now, it had become safer to hop from rocks that jutted up from the water's surface than it would have been to navigate the string thin ledges of the sides; though I supposed Legolas would have managed it easily were he not leading me along.

A low rumbling began above our heads, before I could so much as remark upon it Legolas had slammed my back into the nearest wall, out of the way of the impending avalanche. In the confusion I hardly noticed how the Prince ceased breathing for a few moments, going completely stationary as though he were practicing to be a statue, the way Kili sometimes did if he and I became too _close._ The wooden slat ceiling over where we had stood on adjacent stones split and one half came swinging down, whilst its other half turned upwards giving me a brief glance into a small room above. For a moment I feared we had been caught; three Elf-soldiers were perched above, though they appeared not to have noticed our presence down below and for that I was incredibly grateful. I was a little more worried, however, when at least two dozen barrels came – well – _barrelling _down along the line of the false ceiling, spilling into the river in a thoroughly unorganised fashion. I saw then the need for us to be against the wall. The barrels bounced and jostled each other along the surface of the water, I was surprised they did not break on impact.

The ceiling righted itself and above the row of the water and barrels an argument broke out in angry Sindarin. Legolas cocked his head to listen in intently, I recognised his own trepidation of being spotted.

His mouth set in a grim line as he assisted me from the wall to a stepping stone and then on to the next. "They have not seen us." He assured me, my Sindarin was good, but I had not an Elf's hearing. "But we should leave and quickly. They plan to send more barrels soon. They will not waste time, they are late already."

"Where do they go?" I asked quizzically as I watched the last barrel disappear into the tiny speck of daylight visible through the cavern.

Legolas helped me onto the next rock. "To Esgaroth," He studied my face carefully, "We could go with them…"

_And find out whatever he is hiding from me about my mother._ No, her business in Esgaroth is not at the top of my list at this moment. "I need to find Bilbo." I answered resolutely.

The Elf nodded. He held an air of almost knowing exactly what I would say and do before I had thought to take action. Could I be so like my mother as to be so predictable for him? I tried not to think about that. Every movement brought us closer to freedom and the speck of daylight grew until I could see the coursing river sparkle in the sun, flanked by luscious greenery that seemed almost at war with the dull emerald of the last trees of Mirkwood.

I studied him carefully as I tried desperately to manoeuvre the stepping stones in a somewhat graceful manner. "Why are you helping me?"

"You were in need." The Elf replied with his usual infuriating simplicity.

I rolled my eyes. Elves were smart, but I could not tell whether this one were avoiding my question or genuinely did not understand. "Yes, but why?"

"Why not?"

It seemed to me that he was deliberately misunderstanding my words. "Perhaps because your father is like to hang you for this?" I suggested, it seemed an obvious punishment from the King of Mirkwood, though I did not truly believe even he would ever hang his own son.

"He would not do that." Somehow, I was sure he was not entirely certain of his own words, his father did not seem all too paternal; nevertheless he changed the turn of the conversation. "In any case, we shall not be caught."

I followed his lead. After all, he had freed me, I did not want him as an enemy just yet. "What will you do if – when – we find Bilbo?" I endeavoured.

The Elf nodded, grateful of the dropping of my attack. "I shall escort you to the forest edge and then you would be best to return home; a darkness spreads its wings across these lands, you would be safest back home in the Shire."

I rolled my eyes, sighing heavily. "The journey would not be safe, you know that as well as I." I countered, "Dwarves may be troublesome, but they were a hefty guard." I shrugged and glanced pointedly back the way we had come. "When not imprisoned." We were almost through the opening now.

His brows rose in surprise, "You are loyal." Perhaps he has thought my being removed from the Dwarves would lessen my ties to them, make me see that I was better off without them. I opened my mouth the respond.

"To a fault," Another replied, stealing the words from my lungs. "As are you, my Lord." Tauriel quipped.

In my bewilderment, I almost slipped from the lichen slicked rock I had been perched precariously upon. Luckily, I held my position without assistance, though it was a close call. Maybe she did that on purpose, I cannot deny that she would have probably relished the sight of me falling into the rapidly flowing river. That would definitely be one way of getting me out of her hair for good. After my last foray into a river of Mirkwood, I did not desire to go for another swim in the foreseeable future.

"You should go back." The Prince of Mirkwood ordered fiercely. We were out of the cavern now and the Elf helped me to the eastern shore as though I weighed nothing, his eyes never leaving Tauriel's scowl.

She stood her ground. "Sweet Prince, the gates are sealed, I cannot." Tauriel glanced pointedly at me, the kind of look one would give a piece of excrement in the halls of a great lord. "It seems the prisoners have escaped."

One word caught my attention, "Prisoners?" Had others escaped? Or did his helping me make Legolas a prisoner and fugitive as well?

"Veyra, not now." It was as though Legolas had not even picked up on the pluralisation. "Go home, Tauriel."

"Why?" Tauriel reacted daringly. "She is not her mother, you owe the _thaurer_ nothing." I was not unused to being referred to as the _abominable one_, but hearing the name coming from her irked me more than any of her other insults had done.

"Tauriel," Legolas warned, his tone dangerously low; as close to a growl as I imagined the Elf to be capable of creating.

The She-Elf seemed impervious to the threat in his tenor, as though she were his superior and not the other way around. "It is no secret, my lord!" She threw back in exasperation. The way she said that made me think that whatever this information was had been popular knowledge in Mirkwood for a long while.

My gaze found Legolas to be boring holes into Tauriel with his icy stare. "What are you not telling me? I would know it this instant!" I implored.

"It is not the time." He responded, not bothering to peer my way, instead he appeared to be ordering the other Elf to either leave or refrain from ever speaking again.

"I care nothing for timing, you will tell me!" I demanded forcefully in a voice that reminded me sharply of how my mother would implore me when I would refuse to eat my vegetables.

Tauriel was losing all patients now, I was surprised she had held them for this long. "If he will not, I shall. Every child deserves to know the name of their father."

"Please." I pleaded in a pitiful voice that I would have been ashamed of were I not desperate for information.

Thankfully, Tauriel obliged, though she began with a sickening sort of exultation that twisted her features darkly; even that did not destroy her beauty – I really do hate Elves. "Your mother was a very formidable woman, by all accounts. She could track anything, as you no doubt are aware of. Your mother's last mission – the one that got her killed – was close to the gates of Mirkwood."

I was not aware of that, as I am certain she knew, but I ignored that for the time being. "But it was Orcs." I reasoned. "Orcs killed my mother."

"Yes, and no." She definitely took immense joy from my perplexed anguish. "_They_ killed her; yes, but not in the way you believe." Tauriel hinted sinisterly. "Your mother died protecting Lord Legolas on their return from a scouting exploit on the edges of the great lake of Esgaroth when they were ambushed. She gave her life for the Prince."

She trailed off, but I knew well the rest of the story; Orcs ripped her to pieces, there were too many of them to fight off. That part was not new to me, Legolas' involvement was. No one had ever bothered nor offered to tell me where she was or who she was accompanying. Strangely, it was a comfort to know that she had not died alone, but I did not know how I felt about her company being the Elf-Prince.

A question tugged at the back of my mind. My father. "Did she even have a chance to tell hi-"

"Enough!" He roared over me. "It is not my place to say." He added more softly, in his voice I could hear that my mother had had the chance; that my father knew I existed.

"So he may know, but I should not?" I spat disgustedly. Was it not my very right to be told such information as to whom my own biological father is should someone be able to provide me with it?

Legolas frowned deeply. "Should _he_ not be the one who looks for _you_?"

He had a point, but I was still frustrated that I could not glean anything, not even a name from the Elf and I severely doubted that Tauriel would dare go against her Prince once more. Coward.

Tears clawed to slither from my eyes, but I shut them back each time they threatened to escape, blinking back the liquid fury and anguish. "Am I really to walk this world to the end of my days with no parents, seeing as though you will not tell me of my father even after you watched my mother die?" It was cruel. It was heartless. It was not at all like me. But I so hoped it would work; guilt could make one spill secrets, guilt could make one spill blood. I just had to pray I would hear whispered words and not the slow trickle from a vein.

"I tried- I couldn't stop them- I killed them – I – you have to understand-" The Prince stuttered and stumbled over his own words, distress and guilt washing over his visage.

"So you would protect me because you could not do the same for her?" It seemed obvious now, why he was always so kind to me. As though he thought he could make up for one life with that of another. My trick had not worked and I felt a pang of pity for the Elf. He would shield me from the pain of battle, he would shield me from the pain of a name he felt I did not need.

"Yes. No." He struggled for a moment, his internal turmoil evident in those stormy eyes of his. "I am not certain." Legolas admitted, giving in to his own doubts.

I frowned. "You should have told me everything." I reflected, I would not give up the search for my father, even if he would not help me. I was sure I was not exactly angry or distraught, I knew well the tale of my mother, the circumstances made little difference – but still, Tauriel was right and though I hated to agree with her, it should not have been a secret. Not from me. "I should have been informed."

"Even _she_ deserves to know." Despite the implications she settled on her reference to myself, I could have hugged her for saying exactly what I felt right then. Though I would never have told her that.

"Enough!" Legolas roared once more, louder this time, the sound diminishing all else with its echo for a few moments.

A low growling sounded at the other end of the cavern, from where they had just come.

"Did you hear that?" I whispered. Birds had ceased their chirping and animals had forgotten how to move in response to the Elf's outcry, but still there was some sort of noise blooming behind us.

The rumbling was not alone this time. Calls and shouts echoed out of the tunnel, distorted and panicked, and maybe a little… victorious.

"The prisoners." Tauriel informed us grimly.

The sounds of laughter mingled with a few terrified shrieks that were only just somewhat manlier than a small girl's, not much but a little. Amongst the clearly living voices came the occasional smack and crash of wood against stone. The barrels. I had not a doubt that emerging from the caves would be a troop of reckless Dwarves come to claim their freedom. My heart lurched, I should have waited with them, perhaps that way I would be amongst their Company and not surrounded by venom and lies.

No sooner were the barrels spat from the cave's mouth did my frustration descend into relief and even joy, for in the very first barrel, cramped and damp, was a very soggy yet very much alive Bilbo Baggins being squashed by a victorious yet grumpy Thorin Oakenshield. It seemed I need not have ventured anywhere with the Elf, my little Hobbit was right where I should have been, though perhaps I would have preferred a barrel to myself, or maybe even one with a certain other Dwarf inside it.

My eyes automatically scanned each wooden vessel until they found the one I needed to see most. Kili was purposely slamming his barrel into the side of the one that held Fili, laughing as his opponent paddled furiously with his hands to return the forceful blows. The had escaped for not half an hour and already they were playing as usual, something about seeing them again lifted me. I no longer cared who was with my mother when she passed, I had grieved her and would continue to do so, but there were others I cared for almost as much as I had for her and they still needed looking after even if they would deny that fact if ever I were foolish enough to state it.

"Veyra-" Legolas began.

"You do not need to protect me, Legolas." I cut him off before he could argue with me. "Perhaps you and Tauriel should head home before your absence is missed." I smirked. "Let us hope that the next time we meet I am not behind bars once more. Perhaps then you will tell me what I seek to discover."

I set off at a run to the bank, following the make-shift ships. Spying an empty one, I leapt. And overshot. My right foot caught the closest lip of the barrel and sent me hurtling face first into the drink. I landed in the freezing cold water a good foot behind where the barrel lolled lazily drifting in the current.

"Graceful." Fili commented with a barely concealed guffaw.

Kili chuckled, "Almost Elf-like," He taunted.

Splashing the pair of them – to much complaint from both the brothers and anyone whom had the audacity to get in the way of my aim – I paddled my way toward the offending barrel and tried to tuck myself hastily and clumsily inside, I was halted, however, by a pair of arms from behind me that raised me and nestled my body into the remaining space within an already occupied vessel. It was certainly not spacious, nor overly comfortable, yet it was warm; a familiar kind of warm that I had been slowly growing accustomed to during my time with these Dwarves. I palmed the smooth stone I hid inside my pocket, the one Kili gifted me before our parting, I did not want to think what would have happened had I lost it. The arms wrapped themselves around my torso as though we were alone, though of course no one would be able to see them through the shield of our barrel – I could barely see over the lip of it at my tiny height.

"I missed you," Came the dark Prince's playful drawl as his breath curled tauntingly around the curve of my neck, his fingers removed a few stray tendrils of damp hair to expose more milky skin before returning to their post at my waist.

It was almost impossible to grind out the words "I missed you too," especially given that I was struggling to remember how that pesky breathing habit was done, somehow I had quite forgotten. It was certainly true though, I had missed him. Had he been accompanying me I perhaps would have had the courage and sense to ask the Elves more questions and forced their answers, but I had not. Nonetheless, I was glad to be reunited with him, even if this positioning denied me from seeing his face.

"For a moment," He began in a whisper, "I thought you might stay with _him_ on the bank," his hands roamed both higher and lower, ghosting in exploration, never quite touching. "I'm glad you did not." He suddenly held me tightly, as though I were about to try to escape.

I was not about to do any such thing. Those touches were foreign to me, unfamiliar and uncertain and yet I could not say they made me uncomfortable; quite the opposite, I liked them. They made me feel as though I could be adored, as though I might be something more than just myself. Though the wanting and longing that came with them confused me, a sensation I had yet to experience before. I needed more.

"I'm going nowhere." I promised him earnestly in a breathy moan. And I meant it; not just because leaving this barrel, and by extension him, would be nearly impossible with such miniscule wiggle room, but also because I could not honestly think of any place I would rather be than by the side of this particular Dwarf.

I heard his laugh as it brushed the curve of my neck, "Not now, you are not, princess." He agreed. His grip over me tightened for a brief moment as I stiffened a little.

"I am no princess." I objected. I was used to being barely considered a citizen in the Shire; were it not for my mother's outlandish and yet agreeable reputation and manner, I would have been removed outright for my being… different. No peoples, let alone any stubborn Dwarven peoples would have me as a member of their society and they would accept me even less as a princess even to the Dwarf who would never be King.

"You could be one day." Kili pressed, sealing his words with a sprinkling of kisses to my neck.

I blanched from his statement; and yet still I revelled in his certainty of the strength of our relationship, at his affirmation of us. But still… "Your uncle would not approve, your kind would not approve."

"I care not." He chuckled, though not convincingly; Thorin was as much his father as his uncle – as Gerontius had been to myself – Kili cared deeply about his uncle's approval, that was not about to be altered by anyone or anything. "Besides, if Uncle did not approve he would not have been so furiously worried when that filthy Elf stole you away."

I had no retort for that. Why should Thorin care is I ran away with an Elf, surely he would want his nephew to be rid of me as quickly as possible; unless he knows I would never in an Age hurt the prince.

"You are my princess, whether you agree to be or no." He pledged, "You knew that when I gave you your braid."

I twisted the small plait around my fingers, it had been there long enough now that I had no trouble locating it. I always knew where it was, just as I always knew where he would be.

I pressed Kili's talisman to his palm, returning the rune stone to the palm of its owner. "I kept it safe." Though, no doubt he knew I would.

He slipped the stone into the breast pocket of my sodden jacket. "You shall continue to," He murmured, "just as you do my heart." His trust in me flared an unfamiliar rise of something akin to pride and bliss and sheer joy inside of me, of course I would look after what is his as fiercely as I would look after him himself.

I knew by the answering chuckle that he could feel the heat that flushed my face and flooded my chest. The warmth being a stark change from the tepid water I had splashed about in.


End file.
